


Love and Academia

by FanFictionaries



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Angst, Biology, Death, F/M, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Professors, Romance, Science, Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:06:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanFictionaries/pseuds/FanFictionaries
Summary: Emily Colvert certainly has had a strange start to the last year of her PhD program. First her advisor tells her he’s retiring before she graduates, then she finds her boyfriend in bed with his coworker. To top it all off, the man she hooked up with at the bar to try and get over her ex is her new advisor. Is there any way things could get worse? Oh yea, he’s married.Dr. James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t believe that he somehow ended up in a new state, with a new job, his wife nowhere to be found, and an incredibly big problem. His new graduate student. He can’t deny the magnetic pull he has towards her, but what about the promises he made to his wife?
Relationships: Clint Barton/Original Female Character(s), Clint Barton/Sharon Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), Sam Wilson/Original Female Character(s), Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 20
Kudos: 25





	1. Retirement and Revelation

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

“Retiring?”

Emily sat, shocked to her very core as the older man sitting across from her nervously removed his glasses and began cleaning them on the corner of his Hawaiian printed shirt. Her graduate advisor of three years at Idaho State University, Dr. Erskine, had always been a fair man. He was a scientist! He was logical, factual, practical. So, why on God’s green earth was he retiring at the tail end of her doctorate degree?

“I understand this is probably frustrating Emily, but to be fair when I took you on as a graduate student it was under the impression that you were to just be a master’s student,” Dr. Erskine sighed. Emily opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a hand to stop her before continuing, “And I know I encouraged you to transfer to a PhD program.” He pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. “If I’m being completely honest Emily, my health is diminishing. It has been for a while. It was even before I accepted you into my lab, and it wasn’t fair of me to accept you when I knew that my position here was potentially—" he paused to look down at his desk, “—that my time here was potentially limited. Think of it as an old man’s last hurrah.” He chuckled darkly, almost as if he was baffled by his own decision, “I was going to turn you away, recommend you to some of my colleagues that were taking on students at the time, but when I looked through your CV, read the glowing recommendations from your references, interviewed you and got to know you, I guess I saw something in you that reminded me of myself when I was younger. I guess, I just wanted to relive that. Help you as much as I could.”

Emily fidgeted in her seat, unsure of what to even say. This was a man she spent the last three years with. He was her mentor. He was like a father to her and she found it incredibly jarring to hear all of this now. He had never mentioned his health before; hell, he had been spry as a teenager their first summer, traipsing through the mountains of northern Idaho. But now that she thought back on it, the small groans when he stood from his chair every morning her first year, how he’d opted for the elevator over the stairs her second year, his insistence that he wasn’t needed out in the rolling hills and woods her third year, and the large bottle of aspirin next to his desk all started to make sense. She felt like such an idiot for not realizing. Even worse, she felt like a bad person – a bad friend. She considered herself a friend to Dr. Erskine, even if he was almost fifty years her senior, and friends noticed things like the failing health of those closest to them.

“But now Frances is insisting that I retire and spend what time I have left at home with her and the family. Which, to be honest sounds quite…nice.”

She looked up at Dr. Erskine and took a deep breath, “That’s some heavy stuff Doc.”

A smile spread across Dr. Erskine’s face until it reached his eyes. Emily watched as he physically relaxed, “So I’m forgiven then Marty?” She nodded and smiled back as they slipped back into a comfortable repertoire. In their early days, the two had bonded over the mutual love for the Back to the Future films. They had even gone as far as to compare themselves to the duo Marty McFly and Dr. Brown – mainly because of their drastic age difference and Dr. Erskine’s habit of being erratic and unpredictable. So, over the years they had begun to affectionately refer to each other by the characters’ names.

“I wish you had told me sooner. I would have complained infinitely less about you flaking out on my last trip into the field,” Emily admitted, trying to throw a little humor into the mix. She had never been good at talking about feelings and the mushy gushy stuff.

“I guess I didn’t want to burden you with an old man’s troubles.”

Nodding, she bit the inside of her lower lip trying to decide what to do, “I guess I could see if someone else in the department could take me on for my last year. I mean there’s not much left, all my data collection is complete. I just have data analysis, the conference in the spring and then defending my thesis. Maybe Dr. Foster would—”

“Actually—" Dr. Erskine interrupted her “—I’ve solved that little problem for you.”

At Emily’s surprised expression he laughed, “What? Thought I was going to leave you high and dry?”

Emily laughed as well, but with relief. She _had_ thought that.

“Yes, they’ve managed to find my replacement already. Now, I don’t know whether I should be relieved or insulted that my spot was so easily filled, but nonetheless he has graciously accepted to take you on for your last year, as well as take my place on your graduate committee,” said Dr. Erskine.

Emily rolled her eyes affectionately at his comment – he knew very well that most could not hold a candle to his position within the field of ecology.

“And just who is it that they’ve chosen to replace the great Dr. Abraham Erskine?” Emily leaned in, raising an eyebrow in intrigue.

“Dr. J. B. Barnes.”

Emily’s mouth hung open in shock, “Barnes? THE Dr. Barnes?” She blushed momentarily at her small outburst before clearing her throat, “I mean, that’s uh great. I’ve read some of his work. When, um, when will he be arriving?”

Dr. Erskine gave Emily an amused smile, very aware that Emily had read all of Dr. Barnes’ work, before answering, “I believe he’s actually already arrived, but seeing as I still need to move about thirty years’ worth of stuff from my office and the lab, he probably won’t be moving in for a week or so – right before classes start.”

As if on cue, Dr. Erskine’s office phone rang. He made quick work of answer, “Ahhh Margret. Mark mentioned you’d be calling today.”

Emily took the phone call as an opportunity to stand from her seat and make her goodbyes. Catching Dr. Erskine’s eye, she gave him a quick wave, “Let me know if you need any help packing things up.”

“Could you hold for just one second Margret?” Dr. Erskine asked into the phone before placing it to his chest, “Are we still on for dinner Sunday, Marty?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t miss Frances’ salmon for the world,” Emily said before ducking out of his office and shutting the door behind her. Dr. Erskine’s office sat nestled in the far corner of his research lab – a large space filled with messy counter tops and lab tables covered by slides, scales, and various pieces of equipment that were worth more than Emily’s entire education. Sitting down at her desk, she attempted to work, but her head couldn’t stop spinning. Her heart ached for Dr. Erskine, but his leaving sent her stress level up a whole new level. Not to mention, the prospect of working with Dr. Barnes was a whole other story. What was that saying again? When one door closes, another one opens? Well this was certainly a big door to open. At least for her. Her phone buzzed on her desk beside her.

**Clint:**

**If I have to listen to Dr. Stark’s Himalayans story one more time, I may drive this car off of the road.**

Emily laughed, her boyfriend Clint, currently on a three-week field excursion in Montana, had a love/hate relationship with his advisor. He loved the man but hated having to hear the same braggadocios stories over and over again.

**Emily:**

**Lol! What time are you getting home tonight?**

**Clint:**

**7, still at work?**

**Emily:**

**So late :(** **Yea, I planned on staying until 5. Can’t wait to see you tonight!**

**Clint:**

**Me too. See you tonight <3**

After about an hour, Emily decided that trying to get any work done that day was futile. Her whole body vibrated with excitement. So, she grabbed her bag and headed out of the Life Science’s building. She contemplated what to do with the rest of her day as she hopped into her old Jeep Cherokee and immediately rolled down all the windows allowing a small breeze to blow through the stuffy space. If there was one thing you could count on, it was the unbearable summer heat in Pocatello, Idaho. Leaning her head back in the driver’s seat, a large smile spread across her face and she let out a small squeal. She couldn’t wait to tell Clint about Dr. Barnes. Her boyfriend had unfortunately been listening to her fan girl over the man’s work for the past two years. She could only imagine his reaction when she told him that she would be working with him. With that thought in mind, she put her car in drive and headed towards the store. She would splurge on a couple of nice steaks and some champagne, maybe even bake a chocolate cake, and surprise him with the news over dinner when he got home.

As she carried the heavy bags up the stairs to her third story apartment, she cursed silently under her breath; it was hot, and she was out of shape. She fished her keys from her purse and balanced the bags on her hip as she unlocked the front door and stepped in. She rounded the corner into the kitchen and began to put the groceries away when a voice startled her.

“Em, what are you doing here?”

“Oh!” Emily let out a small shriek and turned around to find Clint standing behind her, “Jesus, you scared me! You said you weren’t coming back until seven tonight babe.”

She crossed the kitchen to him and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He wore only a pair of boxers and his hair was damp from a recent shower. Burying her nose in his neck, she breathed in the scent of his familiar body wash before pulling back and pecking him on the lips.

“I, uh, I thought you were at work until five,” he pulled her back in, wrapping his arms even tighter to her. Emily smirked into his chest, figuring she had just ruined his attempt to surprise her.

“Well, that’s actually a really long story. I was going to surprise you with dinner tonight and tell you about it, but I guess you beat me to the surprise.” She leaned back in his arms and smiled up at him. Clint laughed stiffly, his eyes not meeting hers, and Emily scrunched her brow in confusion.

“Babe, are you oka—”

“Clint honey! Are you getting water or not? I need something to cool me down after that steamy shower,” a voice called from the other room. The sound hit Emily like a brick. Unhooking her arms from around Clint’s neck, she took a step back.

“Em, I can explain,” Clint said, his eyes large and panicked.

But Emily didn’t listen, instead she moved towards the bedroom, no longer in control of her body.

“Em, wait!” Clint followed behind her, but his words were a hazy buzz. She swung open the door to her, _their_ , bedroom and found Sharon, Clint’s coworker, lying in their bed. Sharon let out a shriek and quickly moved to cover herself with the sheet.

“I thought you said she wouldn’t be home for hours!” said Sharon, jumping up to dress herself. “Oh my god.”

“Em, please. I know how this looks,” said Clint, but Emily did not reply. Instead she stood still, rooted to the spot, watching as Sharon hastily pulled her pants up her legs and shirt over her head. It wasn’t until the woman brushed past her and exited the apartment, that she looked up at Clint.

“Get out,” she said, voice calm and even.

“Emily…”

“I’m going to leave, and when I get back tonight, I want you and all your stuff out of my apartment.” She turned on the spot and headed to the kitchen to grab her bag.

“You can’t be serious Em. This is my apartment too. Aren’t we at least going to talk about this?” Clint tried to reason with Emily, grabbing ahold of her forearm to stop her.

“Last time I checked, only my name was on the lease Clint,” she said icily, ripping her arm from his firm grasp.

“Where the fuck am I supposed to go Em? Huh? You’re going to just throw me out on the street?!”

The anger in his voice shocked Emily to her core. She didn’t know this person. Two years and she had never heard Clint so much as raise his voice, but now he was yelling at her like it had been her cheating on him in their bed. The urge to run from the situation was so strong, she didn’t even hesitate when she grabbed the handle to the front door and swung it open. “I’m sure Sharon would be more than happy to let you stay with her.”

Sprinting down the stairs, she ran to her car and pealed out of the parking lot. She had no idea where she was going, but all she knew was that she needed to be as far away from Clint as humanly possible. With shaking hands, Emily pulled her phone from her purse and called the first person she could think of. The phone rang a few times before a sultry voice answered.

“Well hello sexy, calling for a mid-day booty call?”

“Hey Nat,” Emily answered.

“What’s wrong babe?” her best friend, Natasha, asked picking up on the tone in Emily’s voice.

“Want to help me pick out a new bed?”


	2. Bed Shopping and Bars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The best way to get over someone is to get under another, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

If it makes you feel any better, I never really cared for the asshole,” Natasha offered as she fell back onto a particularly firm mattress. Her blazing red hair bouncing around her. She let out a little ‘oof’ at the lack of give. Emily laid down next to her, crossing one leg over the other as she stretched out and allowed Nat to take her hand and intertwine their fingers.

“I wish I had seen what you saw. But, whatever, I guess it’s a good thing I found out now and not further down the line. I would have hated to find him having sex with someone else on our wedding night,” Emily laughed darkly. When Natasha did not share the humor in her joke, she sighed.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

Nat scoffed and turned her head to look at Emily, “You’re redirecting.”

“You’re not a certified therapist yet Nat and I can’t afford therapy.”

Natasha laughed, “Yea, well when I am certified I’ll give you the family and friends discount. Then maybe you’ll actually talk to someone.”

“Excuse me ladies, can I help you find a mattress today?” Natasha and Emily sat up to see a sales associate staring down at them, a fake smile plastered across his face.

“Yes, this bed is a little firm. My girlfriend and I tend to lean towards a softer mattress. We were hoping for a king as well—" Natasha held her hand up to the side of her mouth to mock block her words from Emily, “—this one likes to hog the bed.” She winked at the sales associate, a balding man who appeared to be in his mid-forties. The tag on his shirt told Emily that his name was Jeremy and that he was very pleased to meet them.

Rolling her eyes, Emily disconnected her hand from Natasha’s and swung off the bed, “Hi Jeremy, can you please show me your cheapest double mattress?”

Jeremy, looking slightly confused, nodded and turned towards the other half of the store, “Follow me.”

Emily genuinely couldn’t afford to buy a new mattress, especially when she would be covering the rent herself from now on, but she absolutely refused to sleep in the bed that Clint and Sharon had defiled. She didn’t even bother testing the mattress before she handed Jeremy her card and leaned against the front desk.

“So, what’s the plan now?” Natasha asked, twisting one of her short curls around her finger.

“I don’t know. Pick up a shit ton of Chinese food, go home, drink the entire bottle of champagne I just bought then fall asleep on my couch.” Emily had official hit the pity party stage. Taking her card back from Jeremy and signing the receipt, she completed the transaction.

“How long should it take to deliver?” she asked.

“Our policy is two to three weeks, but as you’re local it might be sooner,” Jeremy said, taking the receipt and pen from her and filing them away. With a sigh, she turned and exited the store, Natasha close behind her. Two to three weeks…looks like she’d be sleeping on the couch for a while. As she rounded her car, Natasha blocked the driver’s side door, her arms crossed and a stern expression across her face.

“I’m driving.” she held out her hand for the keys.

“No offence Nat, but it’s my car and you’re not necessarily the best driver. I’m not letting you drive my baby.” Emily attempted to reach around Natasha for the door handle, but the feisty red head swatted her hand away.

“Ow! What the hell?” Emily pulled her hand back and cradled it in her arms, glaring down at the girl in front of her.

“You’re not going home to sit in your sad lonely apartment like a sad lonely person! You’re going to come home with me, I’m going to squeeze you into something tight and slutty and we’re going to go out,” Nat proclaimed, holding her hand out again for the keys.

“Nat, I don’t need—”

“You don’t know shit about what you need. As your therapist, I’m telling you that what you need is to get completely sloshed, dance until you forget about what’s his face, and then make out with an incredibly hot stranger. You deserve to feel like a hot piece of ass tonight.” Natasha continued to hold out her hand for the keys and whooped in triumph when Emily finally relented. She trudged over to the passenger side of the car and let her best friend drive her back to her apartment to, as she liked to call it, ‘slut her up’.

Several hours later and already feeling slightly buzzed from the pre-gaming at Natasha’s place, Emily stood outside of a popular bar in a skin-tight black dress that barely covered her body. She could already feel her heart beating in her feet from the six-inch heels they were shoved into and she kept catching her reflection in the bar window as Nat finished flirting with the Uber driver. Natasha had curled Emily’s long blonde hair in a messy fashion and insisted that the dark smoky eye was necessary. She wanted Emily to look like a ‘bad bitch’ and ‘one hundred percent fuckable’. Emily had laughed at the time, but now looking at her reflection, she realized that Natasha had done her job well. She looked good…really good. Truth be told, she could barely recognize the usual Emily staring back at her in the dark reflection. Natasha was right, she was sure to find a man tonight if she wanted to. But, did she really want to make out with a stranger tonight when this morning she had been in a happy, committed relationship? She never had much interest in random hookups or one-night stands. There was nothing wrong with them, she just always felt like they were a lot more work than enjoyable. Natasha’s reflection appeared at her side as she slung an arm around Emily’s shoulders. She had also donned an all-black ensemble that night, but instead of a dress, the tightest pair of leather pants Emily had ever seen hugged every curve of her shapely legs and a tiny lace top kept her breasts in place. She too wore sky-high heels but, still stood a good four inches shorter than Emily.

“I. Am. Good,” she sighed and swung her hand down, slapping Emily’s ass sharply, “Come on hot stuff. Let’s go find you a nice slab of man meat.”

“Please don’t refer to them as that,” Emily pleaded as she followed her into the dark bar. Inside, music pumped through large speakers and smoke hung in the air from various patron’s cigars and cigarettes. Only in rural Idaho did people still smoke _inside_. The steady bass of the music coursed through Emily’s veins and the murmur of conversation filled her ears as she and Natasha squeezed through the throngs of people to get to the bar.

“Would you hold my stuff in your pockets?” Emily asked, realizing she probably should have brought a purse. Natasha nodded and slipped Emily’s apartment key, phone, and ID in her back pocket. Emily held onto the cash she had brought, prepared to spend twenty dollars and nothing more. In typical Natasha fashion, they weren’t at the bar for more than two minutes before a handsome man approached her and asked her to dance. Natasha turned to her, obviously looking for permission and smiled appreciatively when Emily waved her off and told her to go have fun. Taking a deep breath, she turned towards the bar and tried to get the bartender’s attention. As she raised her hand to catch his eye, a pair of undergraduates rushed the bar and sent Emily tipping into the person standing next to her.

“Hey! Watch it!” she yelled to deaf ears and felt a pair of large hands on her waist, steadying her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t step on you or anything did I?” Emily asked as she turned around, coming face to face with possibly _the_ handsomest man she had ever seen.

“No, all good here doll.” The hint of east coast accent caught her off guard and sent jolts of arousal through her body. Good God, she thought as she took him in. His light eyes were lined with thick, dark lashes and even thicker dark brows. The strong line of his nose led to a pair of pink lips and a hint of a five-o’clock shadow covered a sharp, square jaw. His dark brown hair hung just above his shoulders, thick and tantalizingly messy. The man was all dark, sharp angles.

“Good, I’d hate to ruin someone’s night,” Emily said, giving the man a shy smile.

“I don’t think you could ruin someone’s night if you tried.” The adonis like man smiled, eyeing her up and down as if he were contemplating something, before extending his hand, “I’m Bucky.”

His compliment and intense gaze made Emily’s stomach flip and she squirmed, feeling a heat building low in her abdomen. She took his hand in hers and felt the warmth of it, rough callouses rubbing against the soft skin of her palm, “Emily, nice to meet you.”

“Can I buy you a drink Emily?” Bucky asked, leaning in closer.

She nodded, her mouth going dry. Holy crap, he wants to buy me a drink, she thought in wonder.

“What’s your poison?”

“Whiskey, on the rocks,” she needed something a lot stronger than the red wine Natasha provided back at her apartment to give her the courage to interact with this man. He lifted an eyebrow and smirked as if she had impressed him. Catching the attention of the bartender, he handed the man a twenty-dollar bill, “Two Maker’s 46, one neat and one on the rocks please. Keep the change.”

“So, Emily, what brings you out tonight?”

“My best friend insisted I needed a night out.”

“Don’t get out much then?” he teased her, smiling mischievously.

“I guess you could say that. She says I work too much.”

“What do you do for work?” At his question, their drinks arrived. Emily took a heavy sip of the amber liquid. The familiar burn felt nice as it slid down her throat. Her conversation with Natasha popped into her head from earlier that night as she delayed her answer.

_“I hate small talk Nat. What do I even say to a guy if he’s interested?”_

_“You don’t have to talk at all really.” Natasha winked at her as she wrapped a piece of Emily’s hair around her curling iron. Emily gave her friend an unamused expression through the mirror. “Alright, alright. Well if you insist on having a conversation with the man before you hook up with him, why don’t you have a little fun with it?”_

_“Fun?”_

_“Yea make something up. I do it all the time. You’ll never see them again so what does it matter?”_

She could do that. In fact, with the day that she’d had, it might just be a nice change of pace to be someone else for the night.

“I’m a bartender,” she halfway lied. Technically she did bartend, just on the side for extra cash.

Bucky laughed, “And your idea of a fun night away from work is to come to a bar?”

“Not my idea, my friend’s idea, remember?” Emily said, laughing as well.

“Oh, right, right. And where is this friend?”

“She ditched me about five minutes after we got here,” Emily admitted, but not at all upset about the fact.

Bucky nodded his head, obviously no stranger to her situation, “Ah yes, the all too familiar ‘fun friend’ scenario.”

“The very one. You sound like you’ve encountered it a few times.”

“Oh yea—" Bucky took a sip from his glass, “—almost always ends in me taking a cab home by myself before midnight.”

“Almost?” Emily asked flirtatiously, raising an eyebrow at the man across from her as she too took a sip of the whiskey from her glass. So that’s who she was tonight, Emily concluded, coming to the decision that tonight she would try her best to be as far from herself as humanly possible.

“There you are!” Bucky’s response interrupted by Natasha appearing at her side, “And you made a friend.” She eyed Bucky up and down.

“You must be the fun friend Emily was telling me about,” Bucky said politely, shooting Emily a wink. Emily brought her glass up to cover her smile from Natasha.

“The one and only. And you must the guy that’s going to show my Emily a good time.” Natasha tilted her head and leaned against the bar. Emily felt her face begin to heat up and almost elbowed her friend in the side before she remembered—tonight she wasn’t awkward Emily. Tonight, she was bold, new Emily. Just for tonight. So, when Bucky’s gaze shifted back to her, she didn’t even blink when his eyes raked over her from head to toe once again.

“I was hoping on it. That is, if she’s interested.”

“So, are you here on your own…?” Natasha paused dramatically, waiting for their male guest to introduce himself.

“Sorry, Bucky—" he held out his hand shook Natasha’s “—No, I’m actually waiting for a friend. Oh! There he is. Stevie!” He waved to someone behind them and they turned to see a tall blonde man headed their way.

“I’ll be right back ladies,” Bucky said before heading towards his friend. Emily watched as he walked away, appreciating the way his dark wash jeans hugged his hips. The button up flannel he wore accentuated his broad shoulders and did nothing to hide what she could only assume was a muscular build underneath.

“Oh. My. God.” Natasha said from beside her, “That is literally the hottest man I have ever seen.”

“I know right? But I saw him first so for the first time ever, I’m calling dibs,” Emily said, taking another sip of her drink.

“What? Oh, Mister Tall, Dark and Handsome is all yours. No, I’m talking about his friend. If that isn’t 100% Grade A, American Beef Cake, then I don’t know what is,” Natasha drooled, and Emily shifted her attention to Bucky’s friend.

He surpassed Bucky’s already impressive height, and practically dwarfed him in build. The light grey Henley he wore did nothing to hide just how incredibly built he was. His blonde hair was cut neatly and his face clean shaven. _Everything_ about him screamed all American boy.

“I would bet a thousand dollars he calls his mom every Sunday, maybe even his Grandma too…If God is good, he will be single and I will be free to fucking ruin that man,” Natasha practically panted beside her. Emily looked at her friend, not knowing whether amusement or disgust was the more appropriate response to what she had just heard.

“You’re really weird sometimes, you know that, right?”

“We’ve all got our kinks. Now, shut up, they’re coming this way.”

“Ladies,” Bucky and his friend Steve approached them, “This is Steve, Steve this is Emily and…”

“Natasha,” she finished for him, suggestively leaning forward and holding out a hand for Steve.

“Nice to meet you ma’am,” he answered politely. Emily could have sworn Natasha’s eyes grew twice their size at the simple use of the word “ma’am”. She watched in rapt interest as her friend slithered to Steve’s side and ran a hand up one of his large arms.

“Wanna buy me a drink big boy?”

“Um yea, of course. What are you drinking?”

“How about a Read Headed Slut,” she suggested, her words naughty but out of place with the façade of innocence in her expression. Both Bucky and Emily choked on their drinks. Steve’s ears went bright pink at the implication, but he nodded all the same and turned towards the bar with Natasha still attached to his arm. Bucky and Emily turned to each other, sharing an amused look.

“I hope your friend can handle himself,” Emily said, sipping her drink again, trying to suppress her laughter when Natasha’s hand traveled down Steve’s back and onto his ass, causing the large man to jump slightly.

“She’s going to eat him alive, isn’t she,” Bucky commented as he tilted his head, examining the two.

“Oooooh yea.”

Finishing his drink, Bucky placed his glass on the bar and turned to her, “Let’s dance.”

“Okay. Yea.” Emily slammed back the rest of her drink, the burn lightened by the ice that had melted into it. She set her glass on the counter before taking Bucky’s hand and following him out onto the dance floor.

It had been so long since she had last danced. Clint never liked to go out. So, she was nervous when Bucky placed his hands on her waist and started to rock to the beat. Much to her relief, the movements came naturally and soon she had her arms wrapped around his neck, her hips swaying and gyrating to the music. Being this close to the man, Emily realized just how good he smelled. Like musky sandalwood and leather—warm and spicy and all encompassing. His hands traveled slowly and firmly from her hips, one raising to her ribcage, a thumb sitting just under the swell of her breast, the other lowering to cup her bottom. She gasped softly at the touch and Bucky took that as an opportunity to pull her closer to him, slotting their legs together. In return, Emily’s fingers gripped the long hair at the nape of his neck, earning her a small groan that sent shivers down her spine. Raising on her toes slightly, she spoke over the music into his ear.

“Were you serious about what you said earlier?”

“You might need to remind me of what that was doll,” said Bucky, his breath hot against her neck.

“When you said you’d show me a good time.”

Emily had never been so bold in her life. But tonight, she wasn’t the usual Emily. Tonight, she was sexy, flirty, bold Emily. This Emily was looking to make a bad decision. This Emily needed a distraction, a very good distraction, and Bucky definitely fit the role. His hands tightened on her body at her words, and she writhed at the sheer strength of his hold on her. Inhibitions gone, she ran her nose up the length of his neck, breathing in his cologne, before placing a kiss on his jaw. The rough stubble prickled her lips and filled her mind with thoughts of how it would feel other places. When he didn’t protest, she moved her mouth lower, kissing his pulse point, this time nipping the flesh with her teeth and then soothing it with her tongue. When Bucky pulled away, Emily thought she had overstepped a boundary, perhaps misread the situation, but then she was being pulled towards the back of the bar and through a door.

Usually Emily would be opposed to a strange man pulling her into the back alley of a bar, but again, she wasn’t that Emily tonight, and all common sense left when he slammed her against the side of the building and began to attack her neck. The combination of tongue and teeth against her sensitive skin left her burning. She pulled Bucky by his belt loops until he was flush against her, her tight dress and his jeans doing nothing to conceal his hard length between them. Emily pressed into him, letting her hands roam up his front, feeling the hard muscle lying underneath his clothes. Her hands found their way back into his hair and tugged lightly causing a harsh growl to escape Bucky’s throat. His hands, which had been tightly grasping at her hips moved upwards and cupped her breasts firmly. Her nipples hardened under his touch, sending volts of electricity throughout her body. He pulled away from her neck and let the tips of his fingers toy with the neckline of her dress. Emily opened her eyes to see Bucky looking at her, his eyes dark, hungry and pleading, asking silently for permission to continue. Her head swam both from the alcohol and their heated exchange, but she still managed to keep it together enough to nod her approval. At that, Bucky gripped the top of her dress and pulled it down, exposing her bare breasts to him. Emily rested her head against the brick of the building behind her, panting as he placed hot, open mouthed kisses from her collar bone to her sternum before wrapping his lips around one of her nipples.

“Yes,” she hissed, surprised by the neediness in her voice.

Taking her nipple between his teeth, he pulled gently and then released it, “You like that?”

“Yes, oh my god yes. Bucky,” Emily moaned, taking his face in her hands and pulling it towards her. She leaned in, hell bent on kissing those perfect lips, but as their lips connected, he pulled away. His hands left her body and Emily felt a sudden chill as their bodies no longer connected. She stood, frozen, her hands hanging in the air, empty space between them where his face had once been. Opening her eyes, Emily found Bucky braced against the wall behind her, an arm on either side of her head. He looked conflicted, head tilted down, and his eyes shut tight as he breathed heavily.

“Is…is everything alright?” she asked, reaching forward to brush a piece of his hair away from his face. Bucky flinched away from her touch. Emily tried not to let the hurt and rejection she felt show as she let her hands drop to her sides.

“I can’t, I can’t do this,” Bucky said after a few seconds.

As if suddenly aware of just how exposed she was, Emily pulled the top of the dress back up and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have forced you into anything you didn’t want to do. I—”

“You didn’t force—I just. I have to go. I’m sorry.” Pushing himself off of the wall, unwilling to even look at her, he turned away and disappeared through the door back into the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	3. Dream Homes and Disloyalty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last person he expected to see standing in his office was her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

Bucky’s feet hit the ground. Left, right, left, right. He was on the final mile of his morning run. Usually by this time he’d be well into his runner’s high, feeling great as he finished off his fifth mile, but today it was like each step made him weaker and slower. His legs cut through the air like a knife cutting through frozen butter. He thought about stopping, just giving up and calling that day’s run short, but a yip at his side and the brush of a cold nose on his calf eliminated the idea immediately. Trixie, his border collie, would be an energetic wreck all day if she didn’t get her full five miles. So, he pushed through, finally slowing to a walk when he’d fully completed his run.

“There, ya happy?” Bucky asked, looking down at his dog. Trixie looked up at her owner briefly, tail wagging, tongue hanging from her mouth, and looking as pleased as ever as she padded beside him. He held her leash loosely in his hand as Trixie led the way towards their new house. Their new home.

It was a red brick Victorian style home nestled on a quiet back street. It’s deep green door, white trim, and beautiful garden of roses and irises held a certain charm. The garden had been the main selling point for him and Diane. Diane had been so taken by the white picket fence in the front yard, with the ivy-colored trellis framing the walkway to the front door. She insisted they put in an offer straight away, even though they weren’t planning on moving for another year. Bucky had called her crazy, saying that it was insane for them to pay both rent in Brooklyn and a mortgage in Idaho. But she had reasoned that with both of their jobs and their minor expenses they could easily afford it and it was a small price to pay for their dream home.

_“You mean your dream home?” Bucky laughed._

_“It’s not your dream home?” Diane asked, slightly crestfallen at the realization._

_“Your dream is my dream,” Bucky said, and it was true. His dream was her and therefore whatever her dream was, was his as well._

But now as he treaded across the loose boards on the front porch to unlock the door that stuck, he cursed her for making this their dream. Opening the door and crossing the threshold, he unhooked Trixie’s leash and placed his keys on the table next to the front door. Trixie, apparently wiped from their run, laid on her bed across the living room and promptly fell asleep. Bucky reached for the remote and turned on the TV, skimming through the channels until he got the local news, and then settled into the rest of his workout. It was always the same: sit ups, pushups, pull ups, repeat. The same simple routine helping to bring him clarity. Something he needed a lot of these days.

The decision to leave Brooklyn had been his idea. His contract with NYU was coming to an end, and he just kept feeling like he needed a change. He’d called Brooklyn home his entire life. Despite his short time away for undergrad at Boston University, he’d been born in Brooklyn, grown up in the streets of Brooklyn with his brothers, gotten his PhD at NYU, gotten his first teaching position there, met Diane there. But he was growing restless of the same old story. Diane, thankfully, agreed. She, being from Montana, enjoyed her time on the east side of the country, but was ready to be closer to home.

Bucky had just finished his last set when his phone buzzed on the coffee table. Not even thinking, he reached for it and pressed the green call button.

“So, he finally answers,” Steve boomed from the other end. Bucky sighed inwardly; he’d been avoiding Steve all week since they’d last seen each other at the bar.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Oh, you know, I was just wondering if I could actually see my best friend and catch up with him finally. Or will I have to wait another six years?”

“Alright, alright, message received jerk. Why don’t we grab coffee this morning? I’m headed into the office a little later and I have time before then,” Bucky said, feeling guilty for not making it up to Steve for completely bailing on their guys night last week. Steve laughed and agreed, throwing out a time and place before ending the call.

Bucky showered before dressing in a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He brushed his wet hair and contemplated trimming his beard before saying ‘fuck it’ and walking out of the bathroom. Making his way down the stairs, he was halfway down when a step gave under his foot. With a loud crack, the wood split in two and he was ankle deep in pain and frustration.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

Bucky pulled his foot from the hole and continued walking down the stairs gingerly. Pulling up his pant leg, he assessed that there was minimal damage, and proceeded to grab his wallet, keys, and phone from the coffee table. He crouched down by Trixie’s bed and gave her a scratch behind the ear.

“I’ll be back later girl,” Bucky said. Trixie nuzzled his palm with her nose before giving it a kiss and laying her head back down on her bed.

Fifteen minutes later and Bucky was seated at a table in a small coffee shop, ice coffee in hand, with Steve sat across from him.

“It’s good to see you man. Really good,” Steve said, taking a sip of his coffee and leaning back in his seat.

“I know, it really is. Tell me again why you moved all the way out here after college?” Bucky asked, rubbing a bead of condensation away from the side of his cup.

“Oh, you know me. Boston was fun but after four years I was done with the big city. It’s not home, but most of my family isn’t even in Minnesota anymore anyways.”

“And you’re liking it here so far?”

“Oh, I love it. My parents are here, so is my sister Mary. Mike’s still in Bloomington, but him and the wife have been talking about moving down here too. You know us Rogers—can’t stay apart for too long. We always end up finding our way back together,” Steve chuckled.

“Yea, you are a dysfunctional bunch, aren’t you,” Bucky teased.

“Oh please, I’ve met the Barnes family several times. How many times has your mom called you?”

“Today or in the last week?” Bucky laughed, thinking about how his mom had called him at least three times a day for the past month he had been in Idaho.

“Mary still seeing that finance guy?” Bucky asked, trying to remember the small details Steve had dropped about his family over the years through their phone calls.

“Oh Doug? God no. No, he turned out to be a real piece of shit…why? You interested?” Steve grinned, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

“You seriously trying to set me up with your sister man?”

“Hey—" Steve held his hands up in defense “—I’m just saying. She’s always had a bit of a thing for you.”

“Well, that’s certainly news to me, but I’m not exactly single Steve,” Bucky sighed.

“I thought you said Diane said—”

“Yea, I know what she said but it doesn’t really mean I agree with it. That was her idea, not mine.”

“So, the other night at the bar?”

“Was a mistake. Besides, nothing really happened.”

Steve looked skeptical, “She seemed pretty upset right before she left. You sure nothing really happened?”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing. I’m just worried about you.”

There was a long silence as they sat there. Bucky refusing to look at Steve. Steve refusing to look away from Bucky. Bucky had felt guilty that night with Emily. He truly had. Diane’s words had run through his head that night over and over again. He thought that if he had kept it impersonal, maybe he could do it. With Diane not there, he was lonely and god, he had been wildly attracted to Emily. Probably more than he liked to admit. But no matter what Diane said, when it came down to it, it still felt like a betrayal.

“Well, at least something good came out of that night,” Bucky stated, steering the conversation in another direction.

“Oh yea? What?”

“I’m assuming you went home with her friend, yea?”

At the mention of Natasha, Steve’s face went bright red and he coughed into his hand, “We uh, no we didn’t. She wanted to but…”

“You said no?” Bucky asked shocked.

“Yea, well you know me. I’m a bit old fashioned. I want to take a girl out on an actual date before we—”

“Fuck each other’s brains out?”

“Something like that—" Steve smirked into his coffee cup, “—I’m taking her out for dinner tomorrow actually.”

Bucky smiled at Steve, his best friend looking bashful but excited, “Gonna’ show her the ol’ Steve Rogers’ charm?”

“I’m just hoping I don’t make a fool of myself. It’s been a while since I went out on a date. You know, what with me and Peggie splitting and she’s…very confident. She definitely knows what she wants,” Steve admitted.

“Oh, you’re for sure going to make a fool of yourself, but I don’t think that’ll hurt your chances.”

Bucky laughed as Steve reached across the table and tried to punch him in the arm.

“Jerk,” Steve said, smiling the whole time. They talked for a while longer, Bucky asking about Steve’s family and Steve doing the same. They talked about mutual friends and what they were up to. About an hour had passed when Steve asked about Bucky’s new job.

“So, when do you start your new gig?”

“This coming Monday. I was actually going to stop by today and take care of paperwork, maybe check out my new office,” Bucky said, draining the last of his coffee.

“Well, I won’t keep you from that. I should probably get going. I’ve got to head to the gym and then get home and get some stuff done.”

They stood and said their goodbyes, promising to hang out again soon before exiting the coffee shop and getting in their cars. It was a short drive from there to the university. The red brick and lush green trees reminding Bucky of home. However, stepping out of his truck, the dry heat was a pleasant reminder that this place was definitely not humid, sticky Brooklyn in August. Locking his car behind him in the visitor’s parking lot, he walked casually towards the Life Science’s building. He admired the landscaping as he walked, always finding humor in how every university seemed to try and make their campus as pretty as possible right before school started. A nicer grounds always did well for visiting prospective students, parents dropping off their children for their first year, and returning students who wanted a reason to stay.

The Life Science’s building was definitely older than some of the other buildings on campus, but that didn’t both him too much. He climbed the stairs, old linoleum steps peeling and cracking as he double checked the office number on his phone. Room 439. As he neared the room tucked back into a corner of the floor, he began to hear music. Gradually it increased in volume, a punky beat from a band that he recognized. It became clear that the music was coming from room 439 when he entered through the front door. Looking around he saw an older lab, boxes piled high and lab equipment strewn about haphazardly. The music was coming from the office within the lab, this time though, he could hear a voice singing along to it. It was loud, raspy, and overall offkey. Maybe he had the wrong room number? He walked towards the office, hoping to ask whoever was in there for some help finding the right place. Inside was a young woman dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and t-shirt. He watched in amusement as she danced to the music, obviously under the impression that she was alone as her hips wiggled and head bopped side to side.

“Um, excuse me. I think this is my office,” he called over the music, feeling bad that he was probably going to embarrass the girl. She jumped at his voice and when she whipped around the ground fell out from underneath him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. Anger, for some reason, being his initial reaction to seeing Emily standing in what was supposed to be his office. Emily, a woman who had told him that she was a bartender. Emily, a woman he had almost hooked up with and then snubbed very dickishly at a bar about a week ago.

 _She seemed pretty upset right before she left._ Steve’s words rang in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	4. First Impressions and Freak Outs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily can't teach high schoolers - she just not that kind of scientist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

“Hey Doc, did you want your books packed alphabetically by author or by subject?” Emily yelled, looking at the numerous shelves of books. Leave it to Dr. Erskine to wait until the last minute to pack thirty years’ worth of stuff.

When Emily didn’t hear a response, she huffed and began to take books down from the shelves. “Subject it is,” she said to herself, separate the books. She was in the process of deciding whether The Psychology of Scientific Research would go under self-help or hard science when her phone chimed. Shrugging, she threw the book in the self-help pile and grabbed her phone from Dr. Erskine’s messy desk.

**Natasha:**

**Ready to talk about what happened?**

Every day for the past week Natasha had sent her the same text and every day she had ignored it. She had shown up to Emily’s apartment the morning after their night out with a giant iced mocha and blueberry muffins insisting that she talk about it. Emily couldn’t blame Natasha for being so concerned. Even though she kept trying to forget what had happened, the night continued to play over and over in her head.

_Emily had stayed in the dark alley for probably longer than she should have. The pulsing music from inside of the bar like a faint and distant heartbeat as she leaned against the cold brick and tried not to cry. She took deep breaths, but it was no use. The more she tried to calm herself down, the more her eyes began to sting, and her breathing picked up speed. Finally, she pushed herself off of the wall and reentered the bar. Emily pushed through the crowd until she spotted a flaming head of red hair in a distant corner. Natasha sat atop Steve’s lap, whispering something into his ear that made him look excited and horrified all at the same time. Emily all but ran to her, feeling herself quickly losing her cool. When Natasha noticed her friend approaching, she looked at her with a mask of confusion._

_“Babe, what are you still doing here? I thought you left with—”_

_“I need my stuff,” Emily said, looking anywhere but at the happy couple in front of her. Natasha stood from Steve’s lap and pulled Emily’s things from her back pocket. Steve stood too, looking at her with the same concerned face as Natasha._

_“Is everything alright?” she asked, handing Emily her things. Emily quickly pulled up the Uber app and busied herself with it._

_“Yea…well no. I’m going home,” she admitted, feeling tears begin to well._

_“What happened honey?” Nat placed a hand on Emily’s shoulder, but she shrugged her off, knowing that any kind of comfort would cause her to break down. She was not going to sob in the middle of a bar. She absolutely refused._

_“Nothing. I’m just going home.”_

_“Do you want me to go with you?”_

_Emily’s head shot up, looking at her best friend fully for the first time. She looked worried and scared and Emily realized that she was making things seem much worse than they actually were, “No, no, you stay here—" she forced a smile on her face, “—It’s just been a lot today. I need to go home. But you stay, let the hunky farm boy take you home.” She shot Natasha a teasing wink but could see from the look on her face that she didn’t really believe her. Yet, Natasha didn’t press anymore. She merely nodded and told Emily to let her know when she got home safely. Emily agreed and waved Natasha and Steve a goodbye before exiting the bar and standing on the street corner as she waited for Mark, her driver, to get there._

_It wasn’t until she locked the door to her apartment behind her and saw the empty spaces where Clint’s stuff used to be and the key left on the kitchen counter, that Emily sunk to the floor and cried._

So, instead of fessing up to what was probably the most embarrassing moment of her life, Emily said that she didn’t want to talk about it and eventually was able to change the subject to how things had gone with Steve. Apparently, Steve was from Minnesota, but most of his family now lived in and around Pocatello. He did not call his mom or grandma every Sunday, but that was because he went with them to Church. Truthfully, she had never seen Natasha so excited over a guy before. It surprised her to find out that they hadn’t slept together that night. It surprised her even more when Natasha confessed that she didn’t mind – no one, man or woman, had ever bothered to get to know her outside of a sexual manner.

Shaking her head, Emily closed the text message and opened up her music. If she was going to do this job by herself then she was going to do it with a bit of music. Finding something punky and upbeat, she pressed play and turned up the volume. She bobbed her head to the heavy drum beat and bounced slightly from foot to foot as she continued to pull books from the shelves. She let the music take up space in her mind as she worked, hoping it would keep her from thinking. Unfortunately, just like every other moment for the past week, Emily couldn’t stop thinking about that last Friday. God, she was such an idiot. She hadn’t been good enough for Clint to not cheat on and apparently, she hadn’t even been good enough for a complete stranger to have sex with, in an alley. What was wrong with her? Why was she not good enough? What happened with Bucky was so completely out of character for her. Never in her life, through everything, had she ever wanted to be anyone but herself. Then, she has one failed relationship and all of a sudden, she felt the need to try and be someone else? Maybe she was just desperate to connect with someone after finding out about Clint and Sharon. They dated for two years, they lived together, and then he just cheats in their bed? She should be upset about that. She should want to fly off the handle and have sex that means nothing with a stranger in an alley to feel wanted, right?

Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to think of happy things. Like the fact that dinner at the Erskine’s that past Sunday had been nice. How they had told her all about their plans to travel the Pacific North West and see some of their extended family. She also had working with her idol to look forward to. Dr. Erskine hadn’t mentioned what day Dr. Barnes was due to show up, but as classes started Monday and it was Thursday, she imagined he’d be there to set up his office soon. She had taken the time this past week, while trying to distract herself, to compose a list of all the questions she wanted to ask him. The questions ranged from life/career questions to specific research methods from a few of his papers and she was stoked to get the chance to ask them. A particularly favorite song of Emily’s started to play from her phone, and she smiled, tossing a book in the history pile as she got into it.

“So, you were born in an electrical storm. Took a bite out the sun and saw your future in a machine built for two!” she sang loudly, shaking her hips and whipping her hair back and forth.

“Um, excuse me. I think this is my office,” a voice called over the music, startling Emily in the middle of what she thought to be a private moment. She scrambled for her phone and turned the music off before looking to the doorway and feeling her stomach drop all the way through her lower abdomen and out of her body. In the doorway looking, if at all possible, even more handsome than she remembered, stood Bucky. What the hell was he doing here?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky asked. Apparently, he and Emily had the same thought process. Except, he was asking the right questions while she was busy doing her best impression of a fish out of water.

“Seriously, what are you doing here?” Bucky stalked towards her; his height even more apparent now that she was in her usual pair of sneakers instead of sky-high heels. Emily tipped her head back to look at him as he continued to talk, eyes frantic and wild, “Look, I don’t know how you found out where I work, but you need to leave.” He grasped her upper arm and attempted to lead her towards the door.

“Back off man—" Emily pulled her arm from his grasp and walked back to the desk to grab her phone, “—I work here you crazy.”

“What? That can’t be right!”

Emily picked up her phone, opening the keypad, “Listen man, I’ve been here for three years and there are plenty of professors that would vouch for that. I doubt they could say the same for you, so give me one good reason why I shouldn’t call campus security on you.”

They stared at each other, Emily’s heart beating out of her chest. Pride filled her at her ability to think so quickly on her feet in a tense situation. When Bucky didn’t answer, she began to type in the number.

“Ah, Emily, Dr. Barnes, I see you’ve already started introductions without me,” Dr. Erskine announced as he entered the office. Oh no. No. This could not be happening. “Sorry, I wasn’t here to introduce you two, but you know how Dr. Addison gets. She wanted to give me all types of travel advice. Took forever to get away. Now, Emily this is Dr. James Barnes and James this is Emily—”

“Colvert. Emily Colvert, my graduate student,” Bucky, or Dr. Barnes now, finished for him, his eyes boring into Emily as he finally put all the pieces together. While Dr. Barnes appeared to be fitting the last pieces into place, Emily was dying on the inside.

“Yes, and your teaching assistant for the year as well. You’re very lucky, she’s one of the best in the department,” Dr. Erskine stated matter of factly. Emily smiled tensely at his compliment and ran her fingers through her hair. Dr. Barnes hadn’t stopped staring at her since he’d entered the office and it was beginning to freak her out.

“Well, Dr. Barnes, I apologize for the office not being ready yet. Turns out a lifetime career of things is a lot harder to move than I originally thought,” Dr. Erskine laughed, “Had to call in reinforcements to help.” He motioned to Emily and she forced a laugh at his attempt at a joke.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, Dr. Erskine. I just came by to finish up some paperwork at Human Resources and I thought I’d check out the workspace first. And please, call me Bucky,” Dr. Barnes said, finally looking away from Emily. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Of course, Bucky. Feel free to call me Abraham. You know, since you’re here, why don’t we all grab some lunch?” the older man suggested. “It’ll be a great opportunity for us to discuss the position and Emily’s research.” Dr. Erskine gave her a wink, clearly under the impression that he was doing her a favor. If only he knew how wrong, he was.

“Oh, I couldn’t intrude. I don’t want to interrupt the work you’re doin—”

“No, no intrusion at all, it’ll be fun. I know a great Mexican place just five minutes away.”

“Well, alright, it would be nice to ask you some questions about the university,” said Dr. Barnes.

“Perfect! El Herradero it is!” Dr. Erskine slapped a hand on Dr. Barnes’ back and started to exit the office before he turned back around to face Emily, “Coming Marty?”

“Yea, Doc. Right behind you.”

It was a long and awkward five minutes to El Herradero. Dr. Erskine continued to chit chat away, completely oblivious to the thick haze of tension present. His constant talking was only interrupted by the occasional response from Dr. Barnes. Doctor James Freaking Barnes. You’ve got to be freaking kidding me! Emily wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole! But instead she sat quietly in the back seat, freaking out internally. This could not be happening. She had almost slept with not only her new advisor, but her academic idol. She had no idea what this was going to mean for her future. Would he still agree to take her on as a graduate student? Or would she be left to fend for herself among the other professors? What if word got out and she was socially shunned from every ecological convention in the country? She’d never get her PhD. She’d never get a collegiate teaching position. She’d end up teaching science to a bunch of middle schoolers that just wanted to know where farts came from. Worst of all, she wouldn’t be able to answer that. She wasn’t that kind of scientist!

“Marty.” Dr. Erskine waved a hand in front of Emily’s face, bringing her from her spiraling thoughts.

“Sorry, I was just thinking. What did you say?”

“I was just telling Dr. Barnes here how you based your thesis on his work. Are you alright? You’re usually very present.” Dr. Erskine assessed her with a shrewd expression. Why on earth would he say that? The day just kept getting worse and worse.

“I’m fine, it’s just been a crazy week. You know, classes are starting soon, and I’ve got to format the last of my data and start drafting an outline for my thesis,” she lied and looked down at her menu even though she knew she’d get the same thing she always got – chicken enchiladas.

“Ahhh of course. Emily here is one of our hardest workers in the department. I’d say you’ll find her in the building more often than not,” Dr. Erskine bragged, and Emily couldn’t help but feel a tad embarrassed. The whole thing felt similar to when a parent won’t stop bragging about you to a stranger that’s clearly uninterested. Emily could feel her face begin to heat up and bit the inside of her lower lip.

“Really?” said Dr. Barnes a heavy layer of surprise in his voice. While it might have seemed innocent enough to anyone else, Emily couldn’t help but feel insulted that he would be surprised at her abilities. Was it because she was a woman? Or was it because he had his mouth wrapped around her nipple less than a week ago? Her face turned pink at the thought. Her mind began to spiral again. Was he surprised because he thought she had known who he was that night? Did he think that she had purposefully tried to sleep with him to gain some upper hand? The thought made her skin crawl. Emily Colvert was a lot of things, but she most certainly was not a woman who slept her way to the top.

“Well, while she’s incredibly bright, it takes much more than brain power to accomplish what she has. Why don’t you tell Dr. Barnes, sorry, Bucky, a bit about your research? I’m sure he’d be very interested to know more,” Dr. Erskine raised his eyebrows at her, his way of communicating that now was her chance to impress the man she hadn’t shut up about for three years.

Emily cleared her throat and sat up straighter. If Dr. Barnes _did_ think that she was incompetent, then she needed to prove him wrong. “Well, the origin of my studies is quite simple actually. Large populations of whitebark pine, _pinus albicaulis_ , are dying in Northern Idaho and no one knows why. Certainly, the common threats to the species are present: wildfires, pathogens such as _Cronartium ribicola,_ you might know it as white pine blister rust, and the mountain pine beetle _Dendroctonus ponderosae_. Wildfires tend to really only affect the southern regions; my focus is on the northern regions where the death rate is significantly higher than in past years. It appears that the number of trees infected with blister rust has nearly tripled in the last five years. The same can be said about the pine beetle. No one has looked into what has caused these two threats to increase in the location. My hypothesis is that it’s due to climate change. Longer, warmer summers and shorter, wetter winters has made it possible for each to thrive in the areas where whitebark pine are most prevalent.” During her whole explanation, she felt the nerves leave her body and her confidence return. By the end, Emily was looking Dr. Barnes in the eyes.

“That’s where you research comes in of course,” Dr. Erskine added. “Your work on the linkages between climate change and the dynamic aspects of large-scale forest extinctions in North American climates, was very enlightening for Miss Colvert.”

Dr. Barnes brought a hand up to his chin and rubbed at the stubble there as he stared at her. The expression on his face made her feel a bit smug. He was clearly impressed. However, her smugness was short lived when a few seconds later a flash of light caught her eye and drew her attention to his hand. His left hand to be exact. There, where it most definitely had not been before, was a wedding ring.

“Are you going to tell me why I had to fake an emergency call this afternoon or are you going to just continue to pace back and forth?” Natasha asked from her place on the couch.

When Emily had seen the ring on Dr. Barnes’ hand, she immediately texted Natasha from under the table to call pretending to have some kind of emergency. Lucky for her, Natasha had gotten the message right away and a few seconds later she was out the door of the restaurant with a few apologies before someone even came to take their order. Emily stopped her pacing and picked up the bottle of wine from the coffee table. She took a second to ponder the thought of pouring it into one of the glasses in front of her, before chugging straight from the bottle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Nat said, getting up from the couch and tearing the bottle out of Emily’s hand, “I’m just going to keep this.”

“I almost slept with my advisor!” Emily blurted the words out, unable to keep them in anymore.

“Gross, isn’t he like a billion years old? I mean, we’ve all got daddy issues to a certain extent but that’s…”

“No, not Dr. Erskine! Dr. Barnes!”

“Who’s Dr. Barnes?” asked Natasha.

Then it dawned on her. In the crazy whirlwind of her Clint dilemma, Emily never told Natasha about Dr. Erskine retiring. Taking a deep breath, Emily ran her fingers through her hair and decided to start from the beginning. By the time she had finished, Emily plopped herself down onto the couch beside Natasha.

“So, let me just make sure I’ve got this right. Your current advisor is retiring and being replaced by the Justin Timberlake of ecology who also happens to be the incredibly hot guy you hooked up with the other night at the bar and to top it all off he’s also married?”

“Yup.”

“Fuck—" Natasha took a deep swig of wine from the bottle and handed it over to Emily “—I think you need this more than I do.”

Emily took a sip as she nodded, staring in the deep abyss where Clint’s TV used to be. Now it was just an empty entertainment center. The longer she sat there, the more anger began to bubble up inside her. Who did this guy think he was? He was a married man and he’d made her the other woman!

“What are you going to do?” asked Natasha, voice cutting through the muffled haze the wine created.

“I have no clue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	5. Cold Shoulders and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chocolate is overrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

“First day on the job and you’re already sleeping with your students? Man, you move fast,” Steve laughed through the truck speakers. Bucky clenched his jaw, grinding his teeth together.

“Yea, yea, laugh it up punk,” Bucky said, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “But I’m not sleeping with her. I didn’t even sleep with her, technically.”

“Technically. So, tell me, technically speaking, what exactly did you do?”

Bucky paused at the question. He didn’t necessarily want to share every sordid detail of what he’d done with Emily, but he also knew that he needed a second opinion on just how screwed he was, “Technically, I’d say second base.”

“Well, that’s not too bad—”

“And a bit of a lean towards third.”

Silence.

“How far of a lean?”

Bucky parked his truck in the employee parking lot and lifted a hand from his steering wheel to scratch the back of his head, “I may have pulled her dress down and saw her tits.”

Steve blew out a long breath from the other end, “Okay. Okay, that’s fine. I mean it’s not like you did anything with them, right?”

“Well…”

“Dude, what the fuck!”

“Okay, you tell me the last time you pulled a woman’s dress down and didn’t do anything with… _them_.”

“Exactly!” shouted Bucky when Steve failed to respond. “You know what? It’s fine. So, I’ve felt up my grad student! So, I’ve seen her tits. It could be worse! I could have actually slept with her, but I didn’t.”

Bucky exited his truck, pulling his backpack from the passenger seat behind him. With a slam, he closed the driver’s side door behind him and started walking towards the side entrance of the Life Science building. The campus was quiet as the sun just peaked over the east horizon. Most people were still asleep in their beds, but Bucky had been awake for hours.

“That’s certainly looking on the bright side. What if she tries to out you?” asked Steve.

“I don’t know if I necessarily get that feeling from her. I definitely don’t know where her head is, but something tells me she thinks it would be just as bad for her as it would be for me if word got out about that night. I mean, you should have seen her bolt out of the restaurant.” Bucky took the stairs two at a time, remembering how Emily had received the call he could only assume she orchestrated to escape the awkward hell that was lunch at El Herradero.

Steve hummed in contemplation on the other end of the line, “What’s your game plan then?”

“Simple. I’ll just pretend like none of it ever happened. I’ll never speak of it and if she tries to bring it up, then I’ll change the subject.”

“Ah, so avoiding the problem. Perfect tactic,” Steve replied sarcastically.

“Jerk,” Bucky said as he unlocked the door to his lab and stepped inside, surprised to see the lights already on. He must have forgotten to turn them off the day before.

“You know, one day all those mean names you call me are going to add up,” said Steve, humor evident in his tone.

“I’ll be sure to send you some flowers then to make up for your delicate feelings,” Bucky teased back, walking to the back of the lab towards his office.

“Hey, you free to grab a drink Friday? Celebrate your first week of classes?”

“Nah, can’t Friday. It’s date night with Trixie. You know how she gets when I miss them,” said Bucky tongue in cheek, “How about Thursday? Your place?”

“Sounds good man. Have a good day and try not to sleep with any more of your students.”

“Whatever man,” said Bucky, “See ya Friday.”

Bucky hung up the phone, turning slightly to slip it into his back pocket. When he did, he was startled by the back of a blonde head sitting at the corner desk on the other side of the lab.

“Oh my god, I didn’t even see you sitting there. Sorry,” he said, unlocking his office door.

Emily turned around in her chair and took out a headphone, “Sorry?”

“I was just apologizing for not saying good morning. I didn’t see you sitting there.”

“Oh. I made coffee if you want any. There’s plenty in the pot.”

Their words hung stiff and stale in the air as they stared at each other, both unsure of what to say next or if more words were even necessary. Bucky was the first to break the interaction, nodding and disappearing into his office.

Sitting down at his desk, he booted up his computer and steepled his hands as he waited, placing his elbows on the desk in front of him. Leaning his forehead against his hands, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. This was going to be a very long year if it continued on like this. He needed to find some way to act normally around Emily. He couldn’t help but note the cold tone in her voice and just how much it contrasted with the husky, breathy way she’d propositioned him on the dance floor that night. Bucky squeezed his eyes tight, trying not to think about the way her voice in his ear had shot directly to his cock.

A knock at his door broke him from his thoughts.

“Excuse me, Dr. Barnes, are you busy?” Emily stood in his doorway; hands playing with a strand of the blonde hair that fell down to her waist.

“No, what can I do for you Emily?” Bucky leaned back in his chair. Every muscle in his body tensed at what she could possibly want from him so early in the morning. Immediately his mind started to formulate ways to change the subject if she were to bring up that night between the two of them.

“I was hoping we could go over your expectations for your classes that I’m TAing.”

He relaxed, “Yea, of course. Please have a seat.” Bucky motioned to one of the deep green chairs placed in front of his desk and clicked through some files on his computer till he found the word document outlining his teaching assistant expectations. Emily appeared hesitant as she entered his office and sat, gingerly, on the edge of the corduroy material, her hands poised delicately on her jean clad lap. The memory of how her fingers had scraped his scalp and pulled at his hair flashed briefly in his mind. He cleared his throat, pulling his focus away from her hands and back to his computer screen. The tightness in his pants not at all unnoticed to him.

“So, I do have a syllabus of sorts for my teaching assistants which I will go ahead and email to you, but let’s go over it together in case you have any questions. Alright?”

“Of course, Dr. Barnes.”

“Please, feel free to call me Bucky,” he said, the formal use of his name only increasing the fact that he was her superior and making his budding erection even more inappropriate.

Emily’s face colored, her high cheekbones dusting baby pink, “With all due respect Dr. Barnes, I prefer to keep a clear and professional line between myself and my superiors.”

He response took him by surprise. Not only had she not brought up their sordid night together, but she was insisting on keeping things rigidly professional when that same rule clearly did not apply to her last advisor.

“Really? I didn’t get that impression from you and _Doc_ ,” joked Bucky, hoping that if he could find some way to build a rapport between them, then they could relax. The idea was quickly squashed when Emily not only failed to laugh, but stared at him unamused, a scowl set at the corners of her mouth. Bucky cleared his throat uncomfortably and turned back towards his computer.

“So, first, I expect you to be present and on time to every class. I think it’s important that my TAs are there so they know what is going on and what has been covered so they can best help my students. That being said, I understand that things happen – people get sick, cars break down, family emergencies occur. I just ask that you notify me ahead of time if possible and that you don’t make a habit of missing classes—" he paused, looking over to Emily who nodded her understanding before continuing, “—Second, you must have office hours every week for students to come in and ask questions. Go ahead and email me those this morning before classes so I can add them to my class syllabi. Third…”

Bucky continued on for another ten minutes outlining his expectations and rules, Emily nodding and humming in agreement to his statements. However, she never once laughed when he tried to sprinkle in humor. Never smiled when he said that he was sure she was more than capable of handing the TA work for his classes. Nothing. Instead she stared blankly at him, eyes dull and expression flat. Bucky wondered if she was still mad at him for snubbing her that night at the bar. Steve _had_ mentioned that she had been quite upset that night. But it didn’t really make sense to him. She hadn’t seemed angry at him last week. If anything, she seemed embarrassed and just as freaked out as him.

“So, any questions?” Bucky asked, looking expectantly at Emily. Her eyes focused on him, but not his face. He followed her gaze down to his left hand and the simple white gold band that sat on his ring finger. He felt his heart stop. Emily continued to stare for a few more agonizingly long seconds before lifting her warm chocolate eyes to his.

“Nope.”

With the statement hanging in the air, she stood and exited the office leaving Bucky to lay his head in his hands. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Suddenly Emily’s flee from the restaurant made sense. So did her icy demeanor towards him. Bucky sat back in his chair and spun the ring around his finger, worrying it in a familiar fashion. The metal he had grown so accustom to now burned him as he thought of Diane and what it represented. Commitment. Love. _Loyalty._

He had not worn it that night out. Truthfully, he didn’t know why he’d taken it off in the first place. He hadn’t taken it off in three years. Not once. The plan for the night certainly didn’t include meeting any women. He and Steve were supposed to grab a few drinks, catch up, and nothing more. He had been getting ready to head out that night – sitting on his couch in the quiet, empty space that was his new home, staring at his phone. Diane’s contact pulled up, the call button right under his thumb. It was when he got her voicemail once again the cheery and vibrant script of “Hi! You’ve reached Diane. Sorry I’m not here right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” that he took off the ring. He had been angry. He still was angry.

Diane wasn’t there. She promised that she’d make this move with him, but now he was alone, and it felt like she was light years away. He missed her. Sure, he wanted to scream and shout and curse her, but when it came down to it, he really just missed her.

With a sigh he ran a hand down his face, rubbing at the thick stubble on his cheeks, before sitting up straighter and turning back to his computer. If he was going to make a good impression with his students and his new coworkers, he needed to be prepared for his lectures today. Carefully, he clicked through the slides for his Into Bio course trying to be hyperaware of any mistakes or confusing information. He knew the information so well he had to be extra careful even if it did numb his mind. It hadn’t surprised him when they told him the classes, he’d be assigned to his first semester – Intro Bio, Ecology 204, and Plant Physiology. He was a new professor, which meant he automatically got stuck with the boring introductory courses. The latter of the three was at least a graduate level course.

After a few hours, he glanced at the time on his screen and saw it was already 9:30. Bucky raised his arms above his head and stretched, feeling the muscles in his back pull and unravel. Raising from his seat, he grabbed his coffee mug and peaked around the doorway of his office to find an empty lab. Feeling relieved by the fact, he crossed the room to the half full coffee pot. However, one touch of the pot and he faced a cruel and devastating reality. Cold. She hadn’t even left the warmer on. Cursing under his breath, he stalked back into his office and placed his mug back on his desk. He gathered up his things and slid them into his backpack. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he glanced at the time again. 9:35. His first class didn’t start until 10, he had just enough time to grab some coffee.

He walked briskly down the street towards the little coffee shop he remembered passing with Trixie that weekend. Pushing one of the glass doors open, the smell of roasting beans surrounded him. The familiar sight of long blonde hair, baggy jeans, and beat up white sneakers caught his eye across the shop at the front counter.

“Alright, that’s one twenty-ounce iced mocha, two extra pumps chocolate, nonfat milk, light ice. That’ll be five dollars,” the bright and cheery barista stated from across the counter. Bucky watched as Emily reached into her wallet and grabbed what appeared to be a gift card. He was quicker though, appearing at her side, card in hand.

“One sixteen-ounce black drip and her drink as well.”

Emily spun around on the spot, looking up with annoyance when she realized it was him, “I can get my own coffee.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m also young enough to remember being a poor graduate student. Take the coffee.” Bucky pushed his card into the barista’s hand, not giving Emily a chance to say no. The tall blonde opened her mouth to protest, but quickly closed it, apparently accepting defeat. She huffed, moving over to the pickup counter, crossing her arms and leaning against it. Bucky finished the transaction before walking to her side.

“Something wrong with the coffee in the lab?” asked Emily.

“I’m sure it was fine, unfortunately someone forgot to keep the warmer on,” Bucky said, eyeing her speculatively. He watched as one of the corners of her mouth twitched. She did it on purpose. The level of pettiness amazed him.

“It’s one hundred degrees out, why do you want hot coffee anyways?”

“Because they have the air conditioning blasting so high in that building, I’ve been freezing my fucking balls off,” Bucky regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth. Born and raised in Brooklyn, he was used to a certain dialect. Slowly, he was still learning that the word ‘fuck’ wasn’t common vernacular in these parts.

“Sorry—" he apologized to Emily sheepishly “—guess I’m not very good at professionalism.”

Emily averted her gaze, cheeks tinged pink, but her expression clearly stating that she couldn’t agree more with the statement.

“One twenty-ounce light-iced mocha, nonfat with two extra pumps of chocolate and a drip coffee!” Their order was shouted out across the coffee shop as another barista set their drinks down in front of them. Bucky and Emily both smiled and thanked the employees before grabbing their drinks and heading out the door and back towards campus. Bucky watched as Emily wrapped her plump pink lips around the straw of her drink, intrusive thoughts creeping into his mind of those lips and how they had parted for him.

“What?” Emily asked. Bucky looked away, embarrassed that he’d been caught staring.

“Nothing, just wondering how you drink that stuff.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re one of those coffee people that looks down on others for not drinking it black.” She raised an eyebrow challengingly at him, making him laugh.

“No, no. Nothing like that. Just the chocolate – never understood how people like it,” said Bucky, scratching the back of his head.

“You don’t like chocolate?” Emily spat, incredulously.

Bucky shrugged, used to the reaction the confession usually got him, “I’ve never liked the stuff. Even as a kid.”

“What don’t you like about it? Are you one of those weird people who just doesn’t like sweets?” Emily was surprisingly fired up by the subject, looking at him like he had grown a second head. But Bucky decided it was a nice alternative to the glares and scowls she’d been shooting his way all morning, so he took it as a nice reprieve.

“No, I love sweets. My favorite thing in the world is my mom’s carrot cake. I don’t know, I just think chocolate is overrated. It’s boring, overpowering, but waxy and chalky all at the same time.”

“Wow, I’ve never heard anyone more wrong about something in my life,” Emily laughed as they neared the front door to their building.

“Really?” Bucky asked, smiling down at her. Emily looked back up at him, nodding her head, both completely unaware that the other was reaching for the door handle. It was when their hands met on the warm metal handle, his large hand coming down to envelope her small one that their comfortable trance was broken. They each yanked their hands back, Emily cradling hers against her condensation covered coffee cup, Bucky letting his fall to his side.

“I…um, I’m gonna’ run up to the lab and grab my things. I’ll see you in class,” Emily blurted, before wrenching open the door and running towards the stairs. Bucky stood there for a moment, watching her retreating figure as he flexed his hands and tried not to think about the way it had felt when his hand touched hers or the tingling sensation that remained thereafter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	6. Punctuality and Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He has some nerve walking in here with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

Stupid. That’s what she was. Stupid. Emily Lucille Colvert was the stupidest girl alive. It was Friday, and she was still berating herself for her actions on Monday. She had shown up that first day determined to be as cool and detached to Dr. Barnes as humanly possible. She had done a good job of it too. Except for when she hadn’t. Turning the coffee pot off had been a little petty, she would admit that. However, she couldn’t bring herself to feel bad about it. Men who cheated, especially on their _wives_ , deserved to have gross, cold coffee.

Her first mistake had been assuming that he wouldn’t simply search for coffee elsewhere. Rookie mistake Marty—rookie mistake. Her second mistake had been allowing him to pay for her coffee and then of course, her third mistake had been to sink into comfortable conversation with him. It wasn’t until he had accidently grabbed her hand, that she realized how easily she had caved into his charming ways. After that day, she had made sure not to let it happen again. Cold and professional was an understatement for how she interacted with Dr. Barnes. Any time he attempted to steer a conversation away from his classes, her classes, or her research, she shut it down immediately, either finding a way to physically leave or just not responding at all. So far it had worked well. Now, she just had to get through the next ten months with this man and then she was free and clear. She could do that. She could definitely do that.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you wouldn’t happen to know where I can find a blonde girl, about your height, _really_ funny looking?” A deep voice sounded from the doorway of the lab, pulling Emily’s attention away from the excel sheet in front of her.

“Sammy!” Emily jumped up from her desk and launched herself at the tall, dark man. Large arms engulfed her in a tight embrace as he lifted her from the ground with a groan.

“You’re getting heavy girl,” said Sam with a laugh, setting Emily back down. Playfully, she swatted his arm but laughed all the same.

“What are you doing here? I thought you went back to Seattle!”

“I did, and it was nice. But theeeeen I got a job here working for the USGA. You’re looking at the new public relations representative for Idaho,” Sam said, holding his arms out, presenting himself to her with gusto.

“What?! That’s amazing Sammy, I’m so happy for you!” She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him in for another hug. Sam placed a hand around her shoulders and brought another up to cup the back of her head.

“Thank you, Emmy. How’s my favorite girl doing? Life treating you alright? How’s Clint?”

Emily sighed into Sam’s chest, “Well, it’s been better, I can say that. Clint is a…whole story.”

“Uh oh, do I need to kick some ass?”

Emily lifted her head to look up at Sam’s friendly and familiar face. The warm brown eyes held the same twinkle that they had when they’d met, her freshman year. His smooth complexion now held a smattering of curly black hair. He was trying to grow a beard. Again.

“No ass kicking required. How about I tell you about it over beer and pizza tonight? We’ll get the gang together and you can tell us all about this new job.”

“Beer and pizza, it is.”

Their shared smiles were interrupted by the clearing of a throat. Emily looked over to see Dr. Barnes leaning on the doorway of the lab, arms crossed and a scowl deep on his face. The fabric of his white t-shirt pulled tight across his muscular chest. Emily quickly unwrapped her arms from Sam. Her friend though, kept his arm casually slung over her shoulders. Dr. Barnes eyed Sam speculatively, before pushing himself off of the doorframe and walking past them.

“Miss Colvert, I believe we have a meeting in two minutes. Mind joining me in my office?”

“Yes, I’ll be right there, Dr. Barnes,” Emily responded, watching his retreating back disappear into his office.

“Whoa, what happened to Dr. E?” Sam asked, turning towards her.

“He didn’t tell you?”

“Well it’s not as if I signed up for the monthly newsletter Emmy. The man barely remembered my thesis defense, I doubt he’d remember to tell me anything after I graduated.”

“Miss Colvert,” Dr. Barnes interrupted their conversation, leaning out of his office.

“Coming,” Emily responded, not at all pleased with the expression on her advisor’s face. She turned back towards Sam, “I’ll tell you all about it tonight, promise.”

“Okay, text me,” said Sam, giving her another quick hug and turning to leave.

Emily turned back towards Dr. Barnes; the man assessed her with a disapproving expression before turning back into his office. Emily followed him quickly, confused as to what could possibly have him in such a bad mood. Up until today he hadn’t seemed to be one to obsess too much over punctuality. He had already shown up tardy to two of his classes and it was the first week of the semester. So why was he so concerned about her talking to a friend for a few minutes, instead of being there for their meeting at exactly 4 o’clock?

She entered his office tentatively, taking a moment to linger at the doorway and stare at the man sitting at a desk that used to feel comfortable and inviting. Now, it held too many questions. Too many implications. Dr. Barnes was busy arranging some notes in front of him, clearing some space on the messy desk. The afternoon sun shone through his window, light falling across his angular face. His long, dark eyelashes cast a shadow over his cheekbones, only emphasizing the strong mix of masculine and feminine features of his face. Emily could not deny, even now, that he was handsome. Truthfully, it was the fact that he was so handsome that got her into his mess in the first place. Dr. Barnes glanced up at her lingering figure and motioned for her to sit down. She stepped in, taking a seat, all the while eyeing the man in front of her.

It was silent for quite some time before he finally spoke, “Who was that?”

What? “Who?”

“The man that was just here, who was it?” his tone seemed light, but there was a biting edge to it that made Emily feel as though this was anything but a casual question. Was he jealous?

“Sam Wilson. He graduated last year. Dr. Erskine co-advised him.” Emily kept her answer vague, testing her theory.

“Huh.” he busied himself with his computer before leaning back in his chair and finally looking her in the eye. “You seemed quite close,” he said, his expression hostile and accusatory.

“Yes, but not nearly as close as him and his fiancée,” Emily responded, watching the gears turn and click into place in his head. Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter, obviously embarrassed. Emily, however, was as far from embarrassed as she could get. She was seething. Who was this man to get jealous over anyone she may or may not be seeing? He was married for Christ sake! Not to mention, if she recalled correctly from the overheard conversation earlier that week, tonight was date night with _Trixie._ The audacity had her blood boiling. And honestly, what kind of a name was that anyway? _Trixie_. No, she stopped herself. She was being petty. It wasn’t that poor woman’s fault that her husband was a lying, cheating bastard. Dr. Barnes was the problem. The stupid, awful man with his stupid, awful handsome face and his admittedly friendly and good-humored personality. That is, when he wasn’t being a jealous asshole.

They spent the next two hours going over her research. Dr. Barnes was surprisingly critical. He pushed and challenged her ideas and thoughts in an annoyingly insightful way. He nitpicked and preened through her proposal, her methodology, the justification behind it, her full data set and even some early data analysis. All the while, Emily found her head spinning at the amount of critique and just how…right he was. While it was frustrating, she wished more than anything that he had been on her research committee from the start. This was exactly the kind of insight and contribution she had been hoping for when Doc confessed that he would be advising her. She just wished that it all hadn’t been spoiled by their night together in that alleyway. Dr. Barnes made it incredibly hard to hate him sometimes. It made the whole situation complicated. She breathed a sigh of relief when she was finally free of him, fleeing from the small office before he could try and talk about anything not work related. She contemplated staying on campus to continue working, but the thought of being anywhere near the man in the adjacent office set her teeth on edge. So, she left, opting to prepare for her classes next week at home before she met Sam and the rest.

“There she is!” Sam’s voice boomed throughout the small bar as Emily entered, still attempting to rub the sleep from her eyes. Goody’s had been running and thriving for the past 50 years. It was small, and off the beaten path, but any local to the Pocatello area knew that Goody’s was the place to go if you wanted good pizza and a stiff drink.

“Took you long enough!” Natasha chimed in, standing and pulling Emily into a hug.

“Sorry! I was grading and fell asleep on my couch,” Emily said, setting her stuff down in an empty chair at the table.

“Have they delivered your new mattress yet or are you still stubbornly camping out on the couch?” asked Natasha, sitting back down.

“I think that’s a better question for my back. Why did no one tell me that once I turned 27, I’d no longer be able to just sleep anywhere?”

“Sweetie _why_ are you sleeping on your couch?” asked CeCe, Sam’s long-term girlfriend recently turned fiancée.

“Ugh, I was hoping Nat would have spilled the beans by the time I got here so I wouldn’t have to.”

“Wow, one minute I’m too involved in your life and now I’m not involved enough?” Nat raised an eyebrow, smiling sarcastically as she took a swig from her bottle of Heineken.

“We broke up,” said Emily bluntly. Hoping that if she just got it out of the way, it wouldn’t be such a big deal.

“Oh, Emily I’m so sorry,” CeCe said, reaching out and taking her hand.

“Yea, I’m sorry too Emmy. Breakups are tough for everyone involved,” said Sam, giving her a sympathetic look.

“Tell them _why_ you broke up Emily,” Natasha chided.

“I thought you weren’t going to be as involved in my life _Natasha_.”

“I changed my mind. I’m very much involved again.”

Emily sighed deeply, “I found him in our bed with his coworker Sharon.”

“Hence, the new mattress. Okay, it’s all starting to make sense now.” CeCe grimaced into her drink.

“And I’m not supposed to kick his ass, why?” Sam asked, leaning back in his chair heavily, frowning.

“Because, it would only make things worse. I don’t want anything more to do with him. You know how I feel about cheating. As far as I’m concerned, he’s just two wasted years of my life. Unfortunate, but just a small blip in the grand scheme of things,” Emily stated resolutely. The group was silent as they took in her statement, Sam and CeCe nodding in support while Nat gave her a skeptical look.

“Hey, didn’t you guys have like a king-sized bed?” Sam broke the silence, looking at her expectantly.

“Yea, California King. Why?”

“Well…it’d be a shame if a perfectly good bed were to go to waste.”

“Baby, we are _not_ putting a _used_ bed in our house,” CeCe stated, shaking her head.

“Why not? It’s not like we’re picking it up off the street, it belongs to a friend!”

“We _have_ the money to buy our bed Samuel!”

Emily laughed at the bickering couple before turning to Nat. It had been a while since the two had caught up, both of their weeks taking over a majority of their time.

“So, tell me, how did things go with _Steve_ the other night?”

“Oh my god, Emily—" Natasha looked at her, shaking her head in exasperation, “—It was amazing. He paid. He opened my doors for me. He genuinely listened to me and asked me actual questions. And get this, he’s an elementary school teacher. Which means he loves kids!”

Emily laughed, “Seriously? Already thinking about kids? The sex must have been fantastic.”

“Well…”

“You didn’t?!”

“No! It’s not like that. It’s—I really like him Em. We did kiss though. It was…promising.” Natasha leaned back in her chair, a small smile spread across her face as she thought about it. “But enough about me. How are things going with you and the boss?”

“We talkin’ about Mister Stick Up His Ass that’s taken over Dr. E’s office?” Sam interrupted, pausing his heated discussion with CeCe to finally figure out just who Dr. Barnes was.

“So, you’ve met?” asked Nat.

“Yea, the man looked like he wanted to push me out the window,” said Sam.

“He did not, stop exaggerating. He’s just punctual is all.” Emily had no idea why she was defending the man she was currently disgusted with. “Doc retired and now Dr. Barnes is his replacement and my advisor for the rest of the year.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. The old man should have retired _years_ ago. What is he now? 107?” Sam asked, grinning into his bottle of beer.

“And that, is why you don’t get the monthly newsletter Sammy,” said Emily, sticking her tongue out at him before changing the subject. “Say, we have been here for a while now, and I’ve yet to have anyone take my order—" she looked around dramatically, catching the eye of an older brunette woman, “—Would be nice to get some SERVICE!”

“Emily Lucille Colvert, if you keep yelling in my bar like that, I _will_ fire you.” Maria, the manager of Goody’s sauntered over, wiping her hands on the black apron wrapped around her waist. Her short brown hair fell to her chin, ending in a slight curl that framed the strong line of her jaw. The lines and creases at the corners of her warm eyes revealed years of laughter, while the slight limp in her walk and hunch of her shoulders stood testament to years of hard work.

“You wouldn’t fire me Maria. I’m too valuable,” replied Emily, smiling cheekily.

Maria scoffed, rolling her eyes and placing a hand on her hip, “The minute I find a bartender as competent and that everyone likes as much as you, you’re out of here and that’s a promise.”

“Promise? I’ll hold you to that,” Emily said, watching as Maria began walking away and back towards the kitchen, “Hey! What about our pizza and drinks?” she called after the woman.

Maria stopped and turned at the kitchen door, hand placed against the wood, “I put your usual order in the moment I saw these hooligan friends of yours walk in. If you want a drink, you know where the bar is!” The second half was said over her shoulder as she pressed the swinging door open and disappeared.

“She’ll never fire me. I’ll be working here until I’m an old and decrepit woman,” Emily laughed, standing up and walking behind the bar, pouring herself a pint of Caribou Slobber.

“Don’t even,” said Nat. “You’re going to be working for some kind of environmental agency before you know it.”

“Speaking of jobs, Sammy, tell us all about this new job of yours that’s brought you back to the great state of Idaho,” said Emily, sitting back down just in time for their pizza to arrive. An extra-large meat lover’s special. Extra cheese. The group dug in, eating and drinking their fill as Sam told them all about the glamorous world of government work and public relations. It was nice, Emily thought, to catch up with Sam and CeCe. They seemed incredibly happy to be back in the area with a new house and new careers. They were talking about starting a family soon. Maybe getting a cat. Natasha seemed to be happy as well. She was obviously smitten with Steve. It seemed like, almost every opportunity she got, she brought up something he had said or did. It was cute in a sickeningly sweet way. Emily was happy for them, really, she was. However, the more they talked and gushed about how great their lives were going, the more Emily found herself dipping further into a hole. She’d give anything to have an ounce of what they had. Sure, she had a good life, but things were just so messy at the moment. With Dr. Barnes and Clint—

“Oh my god. Who the fuck does he think he is walking in here with _her_?” CeCe’s outburst caught Emily off guard, bringing her out of her thoughts to focus on the direction the woman was looking. There by the entrance were Clint and Sharon, accompanied by a few others from their lab. At first, Emily felt numb. Stunned. Unsure of what to do or say or think. Then, slowly a deep pit formed in the bottom of her stomach and she could feel the sting of threatening tears in the corners of her eyes. She swallowed thickly. Clint knew this was her place. He knew and yet here he was, not even three weeks after their breakup and he had brought _her._ Why?

“Em, we can totally leave if you want to,” said Nat, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Emily shrugged it off, standing abruptly and grabbing her coat off the back of the chair.

“No, no. You guys stay, finish the pizza and beer. Put it on my tab. Maria knows I’m good for it. I’m just gonna’ go home. I’m tired anyways.” Emily knew that the words were unconvincing, but it didn’t stop them from spilling past her lips and out to her friends.

“Do you want me to give you a ride home? It’s getting dark out,” Sam offered, arms braced against the chair, ready to stand at any moment.

Emily waved him off casually, “No, I’m fine. I’m like ten blocks away. Plus, I think I need to walk off all the pizza. You know, get some steps in so I don’t feel all the cheese and meat on my hips tomorrow.” She laughed, trying to sprinkle in some humor. Waving the group goodbye, she chanced a quick glance in Clint and Sharon’s direction as she fled towards the back exit. To her absolute horror, Clint’s eyes were trained directly on her, watching as she fled like a loser from the bar and away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	7. Date Night and David Bowie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Truce?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

The phone rang. Ring after ring after ring after ring. The sharp tone assaulting Bucky’s ears. It was funny, how a sound that once filled him with excitement, the promise of a voice on the other end, now left him feeling empty and expectedly disappointed.

“Hi! You’ve reached Diane. Sorry I’m not here right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

The beep of the answering machine rang through and Bucky found himself doing something that he hadn’t bothered doing for a while. He left a message.

“Hey, Diane. You know, you really should change your message since we both know you’re the worst at calling people back,” Bucky laughed the humor in the memory of her poor communication skills momentarily filling his mind, before evaporating into thin air and leaving only the silence on the other end. “Look, I know you won’t call me back. Won’t even listen to this, but I have…things are just really hard without you here. I know we talked about this and I know that if things had gone differently that you’d be here with me, but it’s been hard without you. I understand why you had to stay in Brooklyn, but I…I wish you hadn’t,” Bucky breathed deeply, the air coming in shakily as the weight of her absence laid heavily on his chest. He swallowed, his throat tight and constrained, “Alright. I should probably let you go. Trixie’s been eyeing me all night to take her for a walk and you know how she gets. Alright, um…I love you. You know that. Uh, bye.”

He sighed deeply, looking around the darkening room. The house was a mess and he had absolutely no motivation to fix any of it. Sure, he kept it clean, but what use was a clean house when it was falling apart under every sweep of a broom and pass of a duster? The walls needed to be repainted. The floors needed to be refinished. The floorboard needed to be repaired in some places and light switches needed to be replaced. There was a leak in the basement. The showers needed to be recaulked. The stove was disgustingly outdated. And of course, there was the giant hole in the middle of the staircase. A cold, wet nose on the side of his hand brought his attention back to the present and away from the looming pressure of the house and all it represented.

“Okay. Okay. I hear ya,” Bucky grumbled, standing up from the couch before grabbing Trixie’s leash from the hook near the front door. He attached it to her collar, earning him a kiss on the back of the hand. Smiling, he patted her on the top of the head and grabbed a roll of ecofriendly poop bags. The door slammed behind him as he stepped out onto the porch. He didn’t bother locking the door. Let them take whatever they wanted. There wasn’t really anything to steal aside from the TV anyway. Everything of value he and Diane had ever owned was back in Brooklyn. Back with her.

The sun was beginning to set, the deep streaks of oranges and reds painting the sky in a swirling watercolor of light. The air held an unfamiliar freshness; a slight breeze cooled the warm late summer night. It was quiet. Only the faint sound of passing cars in the distance filled his ears. Bucky hated to admit it, but small-town suburban life wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be. The small town of Pocatello didn’t hold the same cramped, claustrophobic feeling the city did. People were friendly here. They said hello when they passed you on the street. They started conversations at the grocery store, the car wash, the dentist’s office. Even his coworkers possessed the same level of open candidness and comradery. So far, his barbeque invite count was up to three and he’d only met them all a week ago. It had taken nearly two years at his last position for him to grab lunch with his coworkers. That level of human connection never struck Bucky as something he needed. However, the more he received it, the more he seemed to crave it like a drug. It felt nice to feel included. Staying out of his head was easier done when people acted as constant distractions.

He wandered the street a few blocks, stopping when Trixie did to sniff a particularly interesting tree. Glancing to his left, his eyes fell upon a little white house across the street. Bright light streaming from the living room window illuminated the yard in front of it and framed the scene inside. Three children, clad in brightly colored pajamas ran rampant through the room, jumping and, he could only assume, screaming as they chased each other. A golden retriever followed behind the youngest’s heel, tongue out and tail wagging. They circled the couch, smiles wide across their little chubby faces. The eldest couldn’t have been more than five, boldly and confidently leading the younger two as she climbed onto the couch and began to jump on the cushions. The younger two, a boy and girl followed suit, jumping gleefully. However, their fun was short lived. Coming into the room, a man in his thirties grabbed the eldest around the middle and lifted her into air, before sitting down onto the couch and pulling her onto his lap. In seconds, he was covered by the other two. The joy in the man’s eyes made Bucky’s chest clench. That was supposed to be him. In another life it might have been. Now, the chances of it ever happening felt slim to none.

From his side, he heard Trixie let out a small bark. He paid her no mind as he continued to stare at the family through their open window. Trixie let out another, louder bark and his arm jerked to the side. Her leash slipped from his grasp, drawing his attention back in her direction to see the black and white collie bolting down the street in the direction of a person. Once his mind registered what was going on, Bucky took off after Trixie, his feet pounding on the pavement trying to catch his dog before she got to whoever she had beelined for. He watched the thin figure, that he could now distinguish as a young woman, pull back slightly as Trixie approached her and then squat down to greet her. A mop of long blonde hair hung low, almost to the ground as she cuddled the dog.

“Sorry! She doesn’t usually run away like that,” apologized Bucky as he reached them. “I hope she didn’t—”

His words were lost when the young woman whipped her head up, surprise written across her face. Of all the people it could be.

“Oh. Miss Colvert. Hi.”

“Dr. Barnes, um hi.”

The silence was palpable as Bucky and Emily stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. As if sensing the tension, Trixie yipped before tackling Emily and licking her face. Bucky panicked, afraid that Emily would put ‘attacked by his dog’ on the long list of grievances he had caused her.

“Oh my god. No—”

Again, the words were lost from him as the soft lilt of Emily’s laughter filled his ears. The young blonde gladly and opening accepted the love from his dog, scratching behind her ears and continuing to laugh as she shifted her face left and right, trying to avoid any direct contact of tongue to mouth. Wrapping her arms around the dog’s neck, she sat up and shifted to the side, briefly hugging Trixie, her small hands digging into the long shaggy coat.

“She’s absolutely fine. She just wanted some cuddles—” Emily pulled back cupping Trixie’s face in her hands before speaking to her directly “—didn’t you girl? Yea. Yes, you did!”

Trixie’s tail wagged a thousand miles a minute as she stared into Emily’s chocolate brown eyes. Bucky couldn’t help but let a little smile slip across his face as he watched Emily croon over Trixie. It had been a while since the border collie had been in such high spirits. It was nice to see her taking to someone so quickly and looking so happy. Bucky crouched down next to the two of them, grabbing ahold of Trixie’s leash once more and scratching behind her ears.

“She really likes you.” He tried to make his voice seem light. The last thing he wanted to do was upset the poor girl. He probably seemed like such an ass at this point. Ever since his outburst earlier that day he had felt awful. Bucky didn’t want to say that it had been a reaction born out of jealousy, but really there was nothing else he could call it. He’d taken one look at the tall, muscular man wrapped around his graduate student and something inside of him had snapped. A twisting in his gut that turned his mood 180. A stupid, primal, monkey-brain reaction. To her, he probably seemed like the sleaziest guy in the world. A married man that picks her up at a bar, leaves her half-naked in an alleyway, accuses her of stalking him, and then gets jealous when he sees her with another man? What a psycho.

“That’s because she has good taste. Isn’t that right—” Emily paused, looking to Bucky, “What’s her name?”

“Trixie.”

Bucky watched a string of emotions cross Emily’s face. First surprise, then confusion, and finally embarrassment?

“Trixie? I thought…” she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth and he could just make out the faint hint of a blush on her face in the fading daylight.

“What?” asked Bucky, tilting his head at her.

“Nothing,” she laughed, standing and shaking her head.

Bucky stood too, still looking at the soft lines of Emily’s face as his mind tried to piece together her reaction. As if deciding in that moment that she was bored with the situation, Trixie headed in the direction they had originally been going, pulling Bucky with her. Emily followed, smiling down at the dog. They continued down the street, allowing Trixie to lead the way as she sniffed and marked her territory. It was a few minutes later that Bucky realized that he and Emily were just…walking together. No tension. No cold shoulder. No biting edges. Just walking. It was nice. However, when he glanced over at her, he found her expression to be far from tranquil. She seemed sad. A little forlorn. A little lost. A little familiar.

“Do you have any pets?” he asked, hoping that conversation would bring back the light-hearted smile and laughter that Trixie had produced a few minutes before.

“No, my building doesn’t allow animals much bigger than a fish,” Emily said, staring down at her hands.

“Not a fan of fish then?”

“Not really, but…” Emily nose scrunched in thought as she spoke, words trailing off, hesitation in her voice.

“But, what?” Bucky smiled, glancing over at her as they stilled for a moment to let Trixie inspect a fire hydrant.

Emily continued to play with her hands. Avoiding eye contact with him as she seemed to be battling something inside of herself.

“What is this?” asked Emily finally, looking up at him and staring directly into his eyes. The question was blunt. Desperate almost.

“What’s what?” Bucky asked in confusion.

“This. This whole, twenty questions thing. I just—”

“Hey,” Bucky cut her off, holding his hands up in defense. “Look, I know we started off on the wrong foot. But, I promise, there’s no ulterior motive here. You’re my graduate student. We’re going to be spending a lot of time together this year and I want you—I want _us_ to feel comfortable around each other. For no other reason than for the year to just go a bit smoother for both of us.”

There. He had said it. Well, he had kind of said it. He didn’t think for a second that it was lost on either of them – the fact that he had managed to bring up their past without really bringing up their past. But still, the cards were on the table and now, it was her turn to decide. He waited as Emily appeared to chew on his words, letting them ruminate.

“But…I’ve always wanted an axolotl,” Emily said, beginning to walk again. Her answer to his first question, really an answer to his second. She was willing to make an effort to bridge the gap. This was good.

Bucky sighed in relief, following after her and easily falling into step, “An axolotl? Really?”

“Yea, this girl I knew growing up used to have one. She named him Buzz, but I always thought he looked more like a Ziggy.”

“Ziggy? As in—”

“Ziggy Stardust, yea. My mom was a big David Bowie fan. Guess it rubbed off on me a bit,” said Emily with a small smile.

“Well your mom has good taste. Where does she live?”

“She’s um, she’s dead.”

He was an idiot. Two seconds into their new semi-friendly conversation and he managed to bring up her dead mother.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Emily I—” 

“It’s fine. You’re fine. It was a long time ago,” Emily assured him before continuing, “After she passed, I used to go over a lot to see, _Ziggy_ , and I’d just sit and watch her float. I’d think of my mom and, I don’t know, it…”

“Helped?” Bucky finished for her. Emily nodded, looking up at him with a small smile, a glint of surprise in her eye.

“Sorry. Wow. I did not mean to spring the whole dead mom thing on you,” she laughed before turning to him in excitement, her tone light and casual “I have a question!”

“Shoot.”

“Your accent,” Emily responded.

“My accent?” Bucky questioned, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Yea, your accent.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t have an accent,” Bucky teased her. He knew full well he had an accent. He got it all the time in Boston and even more since he’d moved to the Midwest.

Emily laughed, his heart lightening at the sound and swelling with pride that he had managed to finally lift her spirits. “Don’t lie. You totally have an east coast accent. I can hear it in your A’s and E’s and the way you drop your R’s”

“Oooohh _that_ accent,” Bucky said in mock realization.

“Yea, _that_ accent,” Emily teased back.

“Brooklyn.”

“Really?”

“Born and raised,” Bucky admitted. Stopping when he realized that they had ended up in front of his house. Emily stopped as well, spinning to stand in front of him, her hands placed casually in the pockets of her light coat.

“Idaho must be a big change for you then. What’s been the hardest part?”

Not having Diane.

“Honestly? The elevation. I’ve never felt more out of shape in my life,” said Bucky exasperatedly, trying to ignore the nagging voice in the back of his head.

“I’d like to say you’ll get used to it, but I’ve been here almost four years and I’m still out of breath by the time I get to the top of the stairs to my apartment. Or at least, I keep telling myself it’s the elevation,” joke Emily, pulling a face at her own expense.

“Well I run every morning with Trixie, you’re more than welcome to join us. Might help with the uh, _elevation_.”

“I think I’d rather keep lying to myself.”

Their laughter filled the air around them, falling into a soft comfortable silence as the wind blew around them. Golden strands whipped through the air and guilt washed over Bucky as his thoughts strayed for a second in just how beautiful she looked in the setting summer sun. Clearing his throat, he turned to the house behind him, windows dark and curtains drawn.

“Well, um, this is me,” said Bucky.

Emily frowned in the direction of his house, “Looks awfully dark in there. No one waiting up for you tonight?”

The question struck Bucky as odd, but he answered it all the same, “No one _to_ wait up for me. Just me and Trixie, huh girl?” He looked down, patting Trixie on the head as a way to ground himself, trying not to focus on the sadness that washed over him at his statement. No. There was no one waiting for him at home.

“Oh—” a mixture of confusion and sadness etched across Emily’s face “—well, this was nice. I’ll see you on Monday.” Emily turned, beginning to head down the street.

“Wait!” Bucky called out at her retreating figure. “It’s pretty dark. Do you want me to walk you home?”

“Oh no, I’ll be fine. I live pretty close to here actually,” said Emily, turning, an appreciative grin spread across her face.

“Are you sure? You never know when an axe murderer might be lurking around,” Bucky joked, earning him a light laugh from Emily, the sound like bells chiming through the air.

“You’re not in the big city anymore, Mister Brooklyn. Axe murders are limited around these parts.” Bucky smiled at the nickname and the way the gentle teasing came so naturally from her lips. No, he certainly wasn’t in the big city anymore.

“Well, I can’t in good conscience let you walk home without knowing you’re safe. Why don’t you take my number and text me when you get home?”

Emily took a moment to ponder his offer and then nodded in agreement, pulling her phone from her pocket and handing it to him. Bucky created a new contact, punched in his number and gave the phone back to her.

“Alright, I’ll text you,” said Emily, turning back around and heading down the street. Bucky waved, watching her retreating figure until it disappeared around the corner. Turning back towards the red brick Victorian, he felt conflicted. A lightness filled his chest. A sense of relief and ease that he hadn’t felt in months. Was it because of Emily? Was it simply relief that she appeared to no longer hate him? That she felt comfortable enough around him to joke and even open up? Or was it the way her laughter and smile brightened the space around him? Or the way the sun shined through her hair, illuminating it like strands of gold? A heaviness fell back onto his chest, crushing the weightless feeling almost as quickly as it had come. Diane. Diane was his _wife_. He _loved_ his wife. But she wasn’t there. She had been the one to tell him to let go. To move on. To move to a different state and forget about her. So, he shouldn’t feel guilty. Right? Not to mention, Emily was his graduate student. Nothing would ever happen with her now. Nothing _could_ ever happen with her again. So, there was nothing _to_ feel guilty about. Right?

It was fifteen minutes later, when Bucky found himself already curled up in bed, that his phone buzzed from the bedside table.

**Unknown Number:**

**Made it home safe and sound. The axe murderers will have to try harder next time.**

The smile that broke across his face was uncontrollable. Fuck. He shouldn’t feel guilty, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	8. Texting and Treats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do I get a taste?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

One month. One month was all it took for the weather to turn and with it, Emily’s brain to mush. She was tired of staring at spreadsheets. Tired of Excel formulas and mapping software. Tired of literary research. And most importantly, tired of having to see Dr. Barnes’ face. To be fair, things were undeniably better than they had been the first few weeks of the semester. It was honestly a relief not having to act so cold towards him. It left room for more productive things like revisions, classes, and figuring out what the heck was going on with her advisor and his wife. Despite her best efforts, Emily had found herself consumed by the mystery that was Dr. James Buchanan Barnes’ love life.

“Now when we think about the different kinds of life cycles that organisms have, we usually think primarily of the gametic life cycle,” said the man in question from his place at the front of the classroom.

Emily sat in the right most seat, in the front row of the lecture hall casually listening. While this was all information she learned years ago, it was encouraged that teaching assistants attended the lectures that coincided with the labs they taught. That way they could match the content effectively. Glancing around the room, she wanted to laugh at the number of young, freshman girls sat in the front. They probably thought they hit the jackpot. First semester of college and they had possibly the hottest professor they would ever encounter. Emily thought back to her own professors during her time at Montana State. Every last one of them was over fifty and balding. Definitely not something to fantasize about.

“The gametic life cycle is the life cycle of most animals. However, there is also the sporic and zygotic life cycles.” Dr. Barnes turned to write the three life cycle names on the chalk board behind him. Emily’s eyes wandered to his broad shoulders encased by a green flannel shirt tucked into a pair of khaki pants that hugged his perfectly sculpted behind. No. She couldn’t think like that. He was married. This she could not deny by the wedding ring he kept so obviously on his left hand. But hadn’t he pretty much told her that his wife didn’t live with him? Just him and Trixie in that big house.

Trixie. God. She felt so stupid when she found out that Trixie was his _dog_ and not his wife. If she had let herself focus on the moment for any longer than a second, she might come to the conclusion that jealousy had fueled the embarrassment. She expected him to be on a date with his loving wife. Not spending the night walking his dog and coming home to an empty house. But that was not the case. Instead, she chose to conclude that the embarrassment stemmed from the fact that she had made any assumption in the first place. No one liked to be wrong. Right?

Still, none of that answered her burning question. Where was Dr. Barnes’ wife? She had a few theories. Perhaps she hadn’t moved from Brooklyn yet. He had just moved into the area. Couples would move separately sometimes. One moving first and the other coming later when their job allowed. But if that were the case, then why did he look so sad when he mentioned being alone?

“Can anyone tell me what kind of organisms experience a zygotic life cycle?” Dr. Barnes asked, turning back to the class. A plethora of eager hands shot straight up in the air. Smiling in amusement, he called on one of the girls from the front row.

“Yes, Miss Hendrickson.”

“Is it plants, like mosses?” the young girl answered. Emily wanted to laugh. Clearly, she hadn’t done the reading and only raised her hand at the opportunity for Dr. Barnes to call on her.

Maybe he had been sad because he’s a good husband who loves his wife and misses her. Well, if that were true, then he wouldn’t have taken off his wedding ring and almost hooked up with her. Emily’s mind wandered to that night, as it often did. The cool brick digging into her back as he devoured her. The stubble of his beard so deliciously rough. The strength of his hands as he gripped her body tightly.

“Miss Colvert, would you like to enlighten the rest of the class?”

“Huh?” Emily broke from her momentary fantasy to see all eyes on her. Dr. Barnes liked to do this. When no one else knew the answer, he’d call on her. It was like a little test on her basic knowledge of biological concepts.

“It appears no one knows what has a zygotic life cycle. Would you like to give us the answer?” Dr. Barnes elaborated, looking at her expectantly.

“Oh, um. That would be fungi and protists. They’re haploid most of their life cycle and the zygote is the only diploid phase before it undergoes meiosis to produce haploid cells.”

“Very good Miss Colvert—” he smiled at her, a brief flash of brilliantly white teeth “—Now, let’s go ahead and draw out the zygotic life cycle to give everyone a better idea.” Dr. Barnes turned once again towards the board as he continued on with the lecture.

There was always the harsh fact that Dr. Barnes had in fact stopped things that night before they went too far. Maybe he regretted it. Maybe it was just a momentary lapse in judgement. Maybe him and his wife were separated, and he wasn’t ready to fully let go. At the thought, Emily felt her heart leap with excitement. The emotion was quickly followed by a strong wave of guilt. Emily shook her head, trying to clear it of her messy thoughts. This was taking up too much brain space. Space she needed for her thesis.

Whatever the answer was, it didn’t matter. Dr. Barnes was her advisor. There was a clear line that could not be crossed. Therefore, it did not matter. She needed to let the subject go and just move on.

Two days of “moving on”, Emily found herself elbow deep in flour, butter, sugar, and eggs, but no less preoccupied by the thoughts of Dr. Barnes.

“Tell me why we needed to use _my_ kitchen when you have a perfectly good one?” Emily asked Natasha, looking at the disastrous mess around her. Flour covered every surface, including the floor and themselves. Butter wrappers and eggshells sat piled high in the trashcan. Splashes of cookie dough coated countertops and cabinet fronts. And Natasha was planted squarely in front of the oven, watching the fruits of their labor bake.

“ _Because_ , you have the most baking supplies out of everyone I know,” said Natasha, never tearing her anxious eyes away from the small glass window. She was a mess. Several pieces of red hair had fallen from her attempted ponytail. Blobs of cookie dough hug from the strands, sticking like large, grotesque, white grub worms. Flour covered all of her clothes and a manic expression covered her face. Oh, she had it bad.

“You know, the cookies aren’t going to bake any faster by you staring at them.”

“I can’t let them burn, Emily. This is important!” exclaimed Natasha, threading her fingers through her sticky hair and pulling at the roots.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey—” Emily slid off her place on the countertop and crouched down next to Natasha on the floor “—Listen. There are already five dozen perfectly baked snickerdoodles sitting in Tupperware on my dining room table. The world won’t end if this last dozen gets a little dark.”

“But-but—”

“No, no, no. No buts. Besides, you only volunteered to bring _two_ dozen cookies to Steve’s bake sale. Remember?”

“Yea, but I mean, we-we needed—”

“Test batches. Yes. I remember the last five hours very vividly.” Emily cupped her best friend’s face in her hands and stared into her frightened eyes, “Steve is going to love these. Please, breathe.”

Natasha nodded, taking a deep breath, “Okay. Okay, yea you’re right. You’re right. I just need to calm down.”

They both stood, pulling each other into a tight hug before separating and beginning to tidy up the kitchen. As Emily wiped the cabinet fronts with a washrag, she finally felt like Natasha was in the right headspace for her to ask the question that had been on her mind all afternoon.

“Hey so, you and Steve have gotten pretty close the last month and a half, yea?”

“Yea, it’s been so great. You know, I really think that taking it slow was the best idea,” said Natasha as she dumped a dirty bowl in the sink and turned the faucet on.

“And I’m sure he’s probably told you a lot of stuff about him…and his friends…”

“Where is this going Emily?”

“Has he mentioned anything about Dr. Barnes or like…his wife?” The moment the words left her mouth, Emily knew it was a mistake to ask.

“No. Absolutely not. I am not doing this with you Emily,” said Natasha, throwing the kitchen sponge down into the soapy water.

“What?” Emily asked, trying to pretend she hadn’t just asked her best friend for details about her advisor’s marriage.

“Don’t ‘what’ me, Emily Colvert. You know what you’re doing. Actually, no. _Do_ you know what you’re doing?” Natasha leant against the countertop and crossing her arms in front of her.

“I’m trying to get to know my advisor better?”

“ _No_ , you’re trying to use my still very new relationship to get dirt on a marriage that doesn’t involve you!”

“You know, you used to be a lot more fun. What happened to fun Nat?”

“She started dating a kindergarten teacher. Now, answer this question Emily: why do you want to know about his wife? I thought we hated this man,” Natasha said, staring skeptically at her.

“We did, but now we might be okay with him…” Emily admitted, unable to look directly at the admittedly terrifying woman that was her best friend.

“Emily, are you sleeping with him? Because if you are, I don’t know whether I should be disappointed or oddly proud.”

“No! I’m not sleeping with him! I’m just curious!”

“Okay, I’m only going to say this once—” Natasha walked towards her “—he is your advisor. The details of his marriage are none of your business. As your therapist—”

“You’re not my therapist—”

“—And your friend, I highly recommend that you keep your curiosity buried. Deep down. You know, where you keep all the shit you probably should talk about. And stop trying to sabotage my relationship with Steve by making me snoop for you.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Emily apologized, guilty for having tried to rope Natasha into her craziness.

“I know you’re going through a lot right now. But, not cool man. Not cool,” said Natasha, her tone lighter as she nudged Emily’s side.

Natasha’s phone buzzed from the counter, subsequently putting an end to their conversation. The smile that spread across her face as she checked her phone told Emily exactly who it was. Steve.

“What does hunky farm boy want now?” Emily asked, turning to the sink and taking over washing the dishes.

“Parent-teacher conferences ended early. He wants make me dinner,” said Natasha, still smiling down at her phone as her thumbs typed away.

“Ooooo dinner at his place. Does this mean you’re finally going to…ya know?” Emily raised her eyebrows suggestively.

“God. I hope so. He’s so _hot_ Emily. I went and visited him at work the other day and he was having a tea party with a couple of the girls in his class during play time. I’ve never wanted to fuck a man in a flower sunhat so badly in my life,” groaned Natasha, burying her face in Emily’s back.

“I can’t even begin to imagine what goes on inside of your bedroom,” Emily said, shaking her head in exasperation as she scrubbed at a spatula.

“There’s a lot of roleplay and prop use,” mumbled Natasha into Emily’s back.

“Yea, I didn’t need to know that,” said Emily, wriggling away from the tiny red head. “Now, get out of here. Take your cookies and go have sex your _very_ single, _very_ hot kindergarten teacher.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Natasha exclaimed, practically skipping out of the kitchen. Emily heard the faint sounds of Natasha grabbing her stuff and a muffled “Wish me luck!” before her front door slammed shut. Lord have mercy on that man.

She continued to clean the kitchen as she thought about the advice that Nat had given her. Natasha was right. She knew she was right. For all the gripe she gave the woman, she really did give the best advice. But still, she didn’t see any reason why it would be so wrong to get to know the man. As friends of course. Purely as friends. There was nothing wrong with having your advisor as a friend. She was friends with Dr. Erskine. _He_ was married. Why couldn’t she be friends with Dr. Barnes? A little voice somewhere in the back of her mind tried to remind her that she had never been in a situation where she almost slept with Dr. Erskine, but she ignored it. They had agreed to try and have a working relationship. Therefore, everything that had happened was in the past.

Drying the last dish and placing it back into the cupboard, the timer on her phone chimed alerting her that the last batch of cookies was done. She pulled the piping hot, cinnamon-sugar creations from the oven and placed it on the stovetop before turning the alarm off on her phone. The scent of the delicious treats made her mouth water. It was going to be a challenge not eating all of them in one sitting, but at least Natasha only left her with a single batch. Turning out of the kitchen, she found her assumption to be incredibly incorrect. There, sitting on her dining room table, was nearly three dozen cookies. Emily sighed. Apparently, she’d be responsible for finding a home for all the test batches. She could probably pawn a dozen off of on Sam and CeCe. There was always the graduate student lounge. People left food there all the time. Of course, she’d keep half a dozen for herself – there was no way she could resist snickerdoodles.

Suddenly, a self-proclaimed sweets lover popped into her head.

Pulling up the message app on her phone she sighed as she stared at the string of unanswered texts from Clint. He’d been trying to contact her since the day she kicked him out. Emily wanted none of it. Every call she sent straight to voicemail and every text she left on read. She took a moment to glance at the most recent texts.

**Clint:**

**Babe. I swear to you, I didn’t want to go to Goody’s. I wasn’t there with Sharon. It was a lab thing. I found out where we were going when they pulled into the parking lot.**

**Clint:**

**Things with Sharon and me are over.**

**Clint:**

**How many times do I have to tell you that it meant nothing? It was just a stupid mistake.**

**Clint:**

**The least you could do is answer my calls and talk to me like an adult.**

**Clint:**

**This is exactly why I did what I did! You’re always so unwilling to open yourself up emotionally to me! I wouldn’t have cheated if my emotional needs were being met.**

**Clint:**

**I’m sorry Em. I didn’t mean that.**

**Clint:**

**It’s completely my fault. I’m just going crazy without you. I miss you. Please talk to me.**

A small part of Emily told her to text him back. He gave her two years of his life. Didn’t she at least owe him the decency to explain himself? A larger part of her scoffed at the thought. No. _She_ gave _him_ two years of her life, and he didn’t even have the decency not to cheat on her. To hell with him and his reasons and opinions.

Pulling up her conversation with Dr. Barnes’, she smiled at his contact name – Brooklyn. She only meant it as a way to tease him about his big city caution, never as an actual nickname. But apparently, he liked it. So, she kept it. Moving back into the kitchen, Emily picked up one of the hot cookies and began to nibble on the edge as she popped herself up onto the counter.

**Emily:**

**Question – do you still happen to have a major sweet tooth?**

Absentmindedly, she chewed on the cookie, switching over to Twitter and telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal that she texted him. It was casual. It was just a casual question. She had extra cookies. He probably liked cookies. Normal. Super normal. However, the way her heart leapt in her chest and her phone leapt in her hand made her feel anything but normal.

**Brooklyn:**

**If I didn’t, would I be going to town on the three loaves of banana bread Steve dropped off earlier?**

**Emily:**

**Bake sale?**

**Brooklyn:**

**Bake sale.**

**Emily:**

**Test batches?**

**Brooklyn:**

**Yup. He wanted to impress Natasha. How did you know?**

**Emily:**

**I just spent the last five hours baking with Nat. We made a lot of test batches.**

**Brooklyn:**

**Wow. They were made for each other.**

Emily couldn’t agree more. If Steve truly spent the entire afternoon baking multiple _loaves_ of banana bread to impress Natasha, then her best friend might have found the one.

**Emily:**

**So, I’m guess since you already have three loaves of banana bread you probably don’t want any snickerdoodles?**

**Brooklyn:**

**I never said that.**

She laughed at his quick response.

**Brooklyn:**

**Are they any good?**

**Emily:**

**It’s my personal recipe.**

**Brooklyn:**

**That doesn’t answer the question.**

**Emily:**

**It’s the best cookie you’ll ever have.**

**Brooklyn:**

**The best? That’s a pretty strong statement.**

**Emily:**

**I wouldn’t make it if it wasn’t true.**

Dots appeared on the screen as Dr. Barnes responded. Emily watched, wondering what he could possibly be typing as the seconds ticked by. Finally, they disappeared to be replaced by his response.

**Brooklyn:**

**Do I get to taste your cookie?**

Emily choked on the bite of cookie she’d been chewing. Coughing and sputtering, she attempted to dislodge the treat from her throat. When she’d finally managed to avoid certain death, she turned the faucet on beside her and used her hand to scoop water into her mouth. Glancing back down at the phone in her other hand, she stared at the message. Did he mean it to sound that way? To sound so dirty? Heart beating prominently in her ears, she gathered what courage she had and replied.

**Emily:**

**You can have a taste.**

**Emily:**

**Of my cookie that is.**

Oh god. Way to keep it professional. What had she done?

**Brooklyn:**

**I’m sure your cookie is delicious. When can I have a bite?**

Abort. Abort. Things were quickly getting out of hand. She was exchanging sexual innuendos with the man when all she wanted was to get rid of some of her extra baked goods. The way she saw it, Emily had two options: keep the flirting going and see where it went or put a stop to it _now_. In a panic, she chose the second option.

**Emily:**

**I’ll bring a dozen into the lab tomorrow! I’m sure you’ll like them. Feel free to share them with the other professors as well. G2G! See you in class.**

Hitting send, Emily threw her phone face down onto the counter. Shoving the rest of the snickerdoodle into her mouth, she jumped off the counter and walked towards the bathroom. She needed a long, cold shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment! 
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well! 
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	9. Cold Beer and Crossed Lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little attraction. A little flirting. A little Clint. A whole lot of Bucky and Emily!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow! Longest chapter yet! 
> 
> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

It should be illegal for cookies to taste this delicious. It should be even more illegal for the person who baked them to look so delicious. Bucky watched Emily as she took that Friday afternoon to tidy the lab. A group of visiting middle schoolers had spent the better part of the afternoon with them, learning about science, plants, and ecology and now the room was in shambles. Not that it was very clean to begin with. He had no idea why, but a universal truth existed about ecology labs – they were _always_ a mess. Perhaps it was the lack aseptic technique required for their experiments. It might also have to do with the exorbitant amount of time they spent in the field, their camping materials, hiking boots, and lab equipment almost always coming back caked in mud. Nevertheless, you’d never find yourself in a spic and span ecology lab. The concept was practically an oxymoron.

Still, the mess the middle schoolers left was quite impressive and as his diligent graduate student, Emily had volunteered to clean up and put everything back into place. He watched her through the office window that looked out into the rest of the lab. Her hair was down today the long golden strands cascading down her back in thick waves. If he focused hard enough, he could just remember the silky, soft feel of it threaded through his fingers. She wore the same pair of baggy, paint-covered jeans as the day he walked into his office to find her dancing amongst the piles of Dr. Erskine’s book. They were high-waisted, synched tight at her small waste by a belt, but hanging loose everywhere else. It wasn’t until she bent over to pick something up that he could see the outline of her perky ass and full thighs. Currently, she was on her tiptoes attempting to place a large fluorescent light on top of a cabinet causing the bottom of her shirt to ride up and reveal the creamy skin of her ribcage. God, did she have to wear such little shirts? Not that he thought it would make much of a difference. The girl could probably come to school in a parka and he’d still get an erection watching her.

He didn’t know when the line of propriety in his mind had been crossed, but he was currently miles past it with no intention of turning back. The best he could do at this point, would be to come to a screeching halt and take five where he was. However, that was a little hard to do when everywhere he went, there she was. When he taught his classes, she was there. Sitting in the front row, idly doodling in her notebook, pen flipping in her delicate fingers, long legs crossing and uncrossing over each other. Often times, he found himself losing his concentration mid-sentence, too focused on the way Emily’s lips wrapped around the end of her pen. Even in the seemingly sweet solitude of his lab she was ever present. It didn’t matter what day or what time, she was there. Headphones on, working diligently at her desk. Dr. Erskine hadn’t been kidding when he said she was a hard worker. The amount of time she spent grinding away at her work bordered on unhealthy – bordered on _his_ work ethic.

He had an excuse of course. He was using his work as a distraction. He always had. When Jenny Haver broke up with him his first year of graduate school, he locked himself in his room and didn’t come out until two weeks later, a full PhD proposal written to perfection. Is that what Emily was doing too? Avoiding something? Using her work as a distraction? He couldn’t imagine what it would be. She always seemed so happy and bright. Every morning, she swept into the lab like an early spring breeze, fresh and invigorating. Often times the day didn’t feel like it began until he saw her smile. Not that he would ever admit that to anyone. Even himself. She was his student. What he was experiencing was simply a basic case of carnal attraction. It was biological. Unavoidable.

“Hey, Dr. Barnes.” His wandering mind was brought back by the woman in question, standing in the doorway of his office. Despite their more relaxed relationship, she still kept her distance whenever she could, and she still insisted on calling him by his professional title. Probably for the best.

“Emily, what can I do for you?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light and friendly and free of any hint that he had been ogling her moments before.

“I’m taking off early today. I wanted to let you know, I’ll have the rough draft for my introduction to you by Monday,” she said, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Yea sounds good. Any fun plans for the weekend?” He wished he could pretend that he’d only asked to be polite, but truthfully, he wanted to know more about her. He _needed_ to.

Emily rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, “Oh yea. Major fun. That is, if working all weekend is considered fun. I’ll be swimming in it.”

“Whoa there, someone better real you in before you get too out of hand,” Bucky said dryly, joining in on the joke.

“I know, an absolute menace to society.”

“The worst.”

They smiled at each other, finding a soft comfort in their banter. It was not the kind of joke that brought you to audible laughter. Instead, it filled you with a warmth and fondness that stuck with you. The thought of it possessing the ability to make you smile for days, months, even years.

“What, um, what about you?” Emily asked, shifting her weight and leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, well I’ve got midterm grading to do. I might meet up with Steve for a few beers.” Bucky didn’t actually have plans with Steve, but he found himself making up the detail on the spot. The need for his life to seem less boring taking over momentarily.

“Oh fun…so it looks like you liked them.” Emily pointed towards the plate of almost finished cookies on his desk.

“Yea, they’re delicious,” he complimented, watching as Emily chewed her bottom lip as her gaze focused on the plate of snickerdoodles. She appeared to be deep in thought, the contents of it becoming clear when a dusky blush began to spread across her cheeks.

Clearing her throat, she snapped out of her trance and pulled her eyes away from the plate of delicious treats, making an effort to look anywhere but him. Realization flooded through Bucky, his mind wandering back to their texts from the previous night. Apparently, the exchange hadn’t been as one sided as he thought. He hadn’t meant for the text to sound so sexual when he sent it. Truthfully, it was a case of mistype, having forgotten to tack on the ‘s’ at the end of the word cookies. It wasn’t until the text was sent that he realized his mistake and how it might be construed. He thought about sending a follow up text immediately to correct it, but something had stopped him. Some sick, depraved part of himself wanted to know how she’d react. Emily in a whole was an enigma. Ever since their truce, he’d tried to spot any hint of the confident, sexy, bold woman he’d met that night at the bar. Something to prove to himself that it was her raw sexual prowess and the memory of it that weakened his resolve. However, that version of her had since been seen again. Instead, in its place was a sweet, intelligent, and sarcastic woman. A little shy. A little quiet. Funny. He didn’t know how to justify that in his mind. How to justify his attraction to that version of her in his mind.

“Well, have a good weekend,” Emily said softly, disappearing from his doorway before Bucky even had the opportunity to respond.

He sighed, burying his head in his hands and taking a deep breath before raking his palms over the rough stubble on his cheeks. He needed a distraction. Something entirely graduate student free. His thoughts wandered to his lie about hanging out with Steve. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.

Picking up his phone, he opened his recent call list. Mom. Mom. Mom. Sister. Steve. Clicking on Steve’s number, the phone rang.

“Hey Buck, what’s up?” Steve’s voice asked from the other end, the screams and shouts of little kids sounding from the background.

“Hey Stevie, I’m not bugging you at work, am I?”

“No, no. We’re on our second recess of the day. I’m monitoring. What’s up?” he asked again.

“Just wanted to see if you were free to grab dinner and a few beers tonight. There’s this place near my house I’ve been wanting to try,” Bucky said, leaning back in his chair.

“Yea—” Steve’s answer was cut short by a loud screech somewhere on his end “—Jackson, stop. Put that down!” Bucky heard Steve scold; his voice more distant as he spoke to the children around him. “Yea. That sounds good. Just text me the place and time and I’ll meet you ther—Martha, that’s not how we talk to our friends.”

Bucky laughed, accustomed to half conversations with Steve when he was at work.

“Alright punk. I’ll see you tonight.” He hung up, not bothering to wait for a response. He knew he wouldn’t get one. When Steve was around his kids, they dominated all of his attention. He lived for those kids, every one of them. Just looking at the impressive cut of Steven Grant Rogers, you’d never think that his life’s calling was wiping snotty noses and teaching the ABCs. But one conversation with the human embodiment of a basket of yarn, you very quickly realized that he wasn’t fit for much else. Allegedly, and while Bucky had seen the pictures he still wasn’t fully convinced, Steve used to be just a sprig of a thing. Barely over five feet tall and a buck twenty soaking wet. He had told Bucky years ago in college that he’d hit a growth spurt halfway through high school and taken up weightlifting to stop getting his ass handed to him every day. But secretly, he believed the real reason behind his impressive growth in mass was to be able to one day lift his entire kindergarten class with one arm. He’d personally seen his best friend hold up ten giggling five year old’s dangling from a single arm like little monkeys.

No, tonight would be good. An extra-large pizza split between them both and one too many beers was just what the doctor ordered. Maybe a game or two of pool if they had a table. If not, he would be perfectly content with bullshitting and talking about the old days. This was just what he needed to clear his mind of Emily.

Four hours later Bucky was walking through the side entrance to Goody’s still reeling from the conversation he’d had with his mother. She wanted him to come home for thanksgiving. He did not. Let the argument commence. He loved his mother. He really did. And he knew she meant well. He really did. But he also hated her inability to respect his boundaries. He really did.

As he entered the small pizza joint and bar, he was pleased to see a few decent and empty pool tables in the far corner. Spotting Steve already sitting down at a table, two beers and giant steaming pizza before him, Bucky headed towards him.

“Got here early so I ordered for you,” said Steve, standing up to pull Bucky into a brief hug. Bucky slapped a hand on his friends back before pulling back and looking down at the pizza. Extra-large meat lovers. Extra cheese.

“Aww darling, my favorite. You remembered,” Bucky teased, sitting down and taking a large sip of the lager. Setting his pint glass down, he reached forward and grabbed a piece of pizza, the cheese stretching with a perfectly melted consistency.

“Well you know, I _wanted_ to try the alfredo pizza they had, but someone refuses to eat anything but the most testosterone filled, artery clogging pizza.”

Bucky shrugged, taking a large bite of his slice and speaking through the pizza as he chewed, “Hey man, why bother with anything but perfection?”

“Well I can’t argue with that logic,” laughed Steve, grabbing a slice himself.

“Oh, my mom wanted me to tell you that she got your card,” Bucky remarked, remembering his mother’s parting request right before he ended their call. Every year Steve sent out a card with a picture of him and his new group of kids to all his family, that list seemed to include his parents.

“Oh great! How is Winni?”

Bucky sighed, “She wants me to come home for thanksgiving. I told her I was spending thanksgiving with your family. By the way, can I come to thanksgiving?”

“Yea, you’re more than welcome Buck,” Steve laughed before taking on a more serious tone, “Are they all still on your case for moving?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” He rolled his eyes, taking another swig of his beer. “Mom figures I should have stayed after everything with Diane. But, fuck, the last thing I wanted to do was be closer to her and all those memories. Plus, her and my sister still baby me over the whole thing. I’m a grown man. I don’t need their coddling. It’s been almost a year and a half.”

“I get that. Took nearly two years for Mary and my mom to stop trying to take care of me after Peggy left me. Nearly lost my mind, but they finally got the memo that I was okay. Are you…okay that is?” Steve asked, leaning forward on the table, eyebrows raised in concern.

Bucky had to think for a moment. Was he okay? For months he had felt consumed by the emptiness Diane’s departure from his life had left. The world had felt so bleak. He held so much anger towards her. For leaving. For giving up the way that she did. But now, things felt different. He didn’t know when it had happened but waking up in the morning no longer felt like a chore.

“Yea, I think I am,” he answered truthfully, finding realization and catharsis in the statement.

“Good. Good, man. I’m really happy to hear that Buck.”

They shared a brief smile before Steve’s morphed into a mischievous glint, “So does that mean you’re ready to get back out there?”

Bucky snorted, shaking his head, “Let’s just take this one step at a time, alright pal? But speaking of dating, how are things going with you and Natasha?”

Bucky watched as the smile on Steve’s face widened, the tips of his ears turning bright red.

“You dog. That good?”

“Better. I uh…yea. Definitely better.”

Bucky laughed, taking another bite of pizza. Well, at least one of them was getting laid. He was happy for Steve. Even during his entire relationship with Peggy he’d never seen him so smitten.

“There she is!” A chorus of cheers and greetings flowed through the air from the bar behind him. Bucky didn’t think much of it until he heard the sound of a familiar voice.

“I know. I know. Maria had me in the basement doing inventory.”

Turning in his chair, Bucky was surprised to see Emily, standing behind the bar, chit-chatting with a group of older men and women. So much for a night free of his graduate student.

“Where have you been girl? We haven’t seen you in forever!” asked the patron near the end – an older woman with greying hair and kind eyes.

“I know. I’m sorry! My day job has been kicking my butt lately. But, it will all be worth it once I graduate,” Emily laughed, leaning against the bar top.

Bucky watched her as she interacted with the group. She seemed comfortable. At ease. The group must be regulars.

A throat clearing pulled him away from Emily and back to Steve, who looked at him smugly, “I could use another beer. Why don’t you run up to the bar and grab me one Buck?”

Bucky nodded, downing the rest of his and standing, “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“Uh huh, sure. Take your time man.”

Walking up to the bar, Bucky watched as Emily’s gaze passed over him and then doubled back, a smile spreading across her face.

“I guess you weren’t lying when you told me you were a bartender,” he said, setting his and Steve’s empty glasses down on the bar top. Emily raised an eyebrow, leaning forward on her elbows.

“Half-truth Dr. Barnes. Graduate student most of the time. Bartender sometimes.”

“I don’t suppose the sometimes you’re a bartender, you could call me Bucky?”

Emily breathed deeply, scrutinizing him through squinted eyes, “No, I don’t think I can.”

“Oh, come on. I don’t have any leverage as your advisor for you to change your mind?” Bucky asked mischievously.

“ _That_ sounds an awful lot like abuse of power Dr. Barnes—" Emily replied, a similar mischievous glint in her eye “—Now, what can I get you?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Can’t go wrong with a Caribou Slabber,” Emily stated resolutely, grabbing two pint glasses from the shelves behind her.

“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. Two of those and uh, two waters.” Bucky pulled his wallet from his pocket and leaned against the bar, rubbing at the rough stubble on his cheeks as Emily poured his beers. Emily laughed, a small light thing.

“What?” asked Bucky.

“ _Watta_ ,” Emily repeated, imitating his accent crudely.

“It’s not that thick,” Bucky defended himself good naturedly.

“Whatever you say _Brooklyn_.”

Bucky laughed, the sound of the nickname rolling off her tongue made something tug in his chest. Shaking it off, he pulled out some cash and placed thirty dollars on the bar top in exchange for their drinks.

“Keep the change.”

“Thanks,” said Emily, “Say hi to Steve for me. Let me know if I can get anything else for you.”

A few hours later Bucky found himself in an aggressive game of one-pocket. Many hours spent in their dorm hall rec room had resulted in their shared skill at pool and they had a bad habit of getting a little competitive.

“Is that the best you can do?” Steve taunted when Bucky made his second scratch of the night.

Bucky sighed, standing up straight and taking a large gulp of Caribou Slabber. She really did have good taste in beer. “Shut up punk. _I_ taught _you_ how to play. Remember?”

“And now, the student has surpassed the teacher—” Steve shrugged, watching as Bucky eyes diverted towards the bar for the hundredth time that night “—okay. What’s going on?”

“What?” Bucky asked, feigning innocence and stupidity.

“Oh please. You can’t stop looking over at her. Is there something going on?”

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not. She’s not even over there right now!” Bucky scoffed.

Steve rolled his eyes, letting out a curt mhmm. Bucky knew he didn’t believe him. He was no stranger to Steve’s ‘I know best and you know nothing’ look. But he was telling the truth. Nothing was going on between him and Emily.

“Whatever. Believe me. Don’t believe me. I’m going to take a piss—” he propped his pool stick against the side of the table “—and if I come back and you’ve moved any of those balls, I’m coming for you punk. Don’t even try it! I’ve got that table memorized!” Bucky called out behind him and he headed towards the back of the bar where the restrooms were located.

Rounding the corner, he was stopped abruptly by the sight of Emily with some guy. Crowding her space, the man stood only a few inches above her looking frustrated. Emily’s posture was closed off, her arms crossed in front of her looking away from him and at the doors to the restrooms. He should have turned away. It was none of his business. But something kept him planted in the stop, moving forward a few inches to listen in.

“See, this is what I’m talking about Em! You won’t open up to me. You never would! I mean, I mess up once and now you won’t even talk to me.” Interesting.

“Mess up? _Mess up_? Clint, you did the one thing, _the one thing_ , I explicitly told you not to do!”

“I know. I know. But I promise it will never happen again. Just give me a chance! Couples get past this sort of thing all the time,” Clint pleaded, placing a hand on her arm that Emily promptly shrugged off.

“I can’t Clint. I told you how important faithfulness and honesty were to me. I made that explicitly clear at the beginning of our relationship and you agreed. You agreed and you still slept with Sharon! I mean, how long has it been going on?”

The man was quiet. Bucky’s stomach dropped. He should walk away. He should really walk away.

“How long Clint?” Emily asked again, this time her voice a little weaker.

“A year and a half.” Bucky might not have been sure he had heard the answer correctly if it wasn’t for Emily’s boisterous reaction.

“A year and a half?! Are you kidding me Clint? Almost our entire relationship? God. I can’t even look at you.” Emily turned to walk away, but Clint caught her by her forearm, yanking her back and against the wall. “Ow!”

“Em don’t walk away. Listen to me! I can explain!”

“Let go of me Clint,” Emily said through gritted teeth.

“No, not until you listen to what I have to say,” Clint responded, desperation and anger evident in his voice.

Bucky, no longer able to watch the exchange, stepped forward, “Hey, back the fuck off man. She told you to let go.”

The coupled looked towards him as he stalked down the hallway, anger seething through him. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

“Listen buddy, this isn’t any of your business,” said Clint in annoyance.

“Like hell it is—” Bucky grabbed Clint by the shoulder and pulled him away from Emily, before turning to her “—are you okay Emily?”

“You really don’t have to do this,” Emily said to Bucky. But the way her posture relaxed, and her arms opened from around her body said differently. She was relieved he had stepped in.

“Do you know this guy Em?” Clint asked, stepping forward.

Bucky swept around, placing himself between Emily and Clint. He towered over the man, using both his height and size to intimidate. Though, he reckoned the flaming, red-hot rage in his eyes would be enough to send him running. He was seething. Every ounce of his self-control kept him from absolutely clobbering the douchebag.

“Just go Clint!” Emily called over Bucky’s shoulder.

Clint laughed, no humor found in his expression or tone, “Are you fucking this guy Em? Is that why you won’t talk to me? Already slutting around?”

Bucky wanted to punch him. Bucky almost punched him. But the soft touch of Emily’s hand on his bicep kept him in check. Turning his head, he caught the desperate plea in her eyes and knew that beating this guy to a pile of mush would be the wrong thing to do. So instead, he took slow and calculated steps towards him until Clint was pressed against the wall opposite them. Bucky watched as the cockiness quickly melted from his face and in its place, fear resided. Jabbing a large finger into his chest, Bucky spoke low and menacingly.

“If I ever see you lay another hand on her, I will personally make sure you regret it. I _will not_ hesitate to kick the ever loving shit out of you. Do I make myself clear?”

Clint nodded frantically, eyes shifting from Bucky and the exit.

“Now, I never want to see you around her or this place ever again. Got it?”

“Yea man, I get it! Just let me go,” Clint pleaded.

“Everything alright here?” Steve’s voice sounded from the hallway entrance.

“Yea. Clint here was just leaving. Mind walking him to the door?”

Steve took a moment to assess the situation behind speaking in a casual tone, “Not at all. Come on Clint.”

Clint’s eyes seemed to go wide when he took in the even more massive man. Steve clasped a hand on Clint’s shoulder and guided him out of sight. Letting out a long breath, Bucky closed his eyes and counted to ten, calming himself before turning back to Emily.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked, taking a moment to scan his eyes over her.

Emily nodded, biting her lower lip and leaning against the wall behind her.

“No, you’re not. Do you need me to wait for you to get off and walk you home?” Bucky asked, lifting her right arm up to look at it more closely. No bruises. Yet.

“I’m, uh, I’m actually already off. I was headed out of the bathroom when he cornered me,” Emily said, rubbing at her face.

“Okay, let’s get you home then. Come on.”

Bucky and Emily left Goody’s after he explained everything to Steve. His best friend didn’t seem upset about cutting their night short at all. Instead, he told them to make it home safely and that he _also_ made sure Clint would not be coming around any time soon. They walked in silence, the only thing keeping the darkened street alight, the soft yellow lights of streetlamps and porchlights. The walk was very reminiscent of the last time they had found themselves walking the streets of Pocatello late in the evening. The only thing different this time was the lack of Trixie by their side and Bucky’s arm slung over her shoulders protectively. She needed someone to take care of her in that moment. He knew solely from the fact that instead of shying away from his touch, she leaned into it all the way to her apartment.

She hadn’t been lying when she’d said she lived close to him. Her complex was only about a half mile from his house. The manufactured building held no personality, the white siding and grey trim creating uniform replications of the same apartments. However, Emily knew exactly where she was going, leading him towards her apartment with a practiced ease. When she unlocked her front door, she walked right in, leaving the door open. Bucky took this as an invitation to follow her. When he stepped into her place, he found it to be surprisingly lacking in any sentimentality. In fact, it looked half empty. No pictures hung on the walls. No nick-knacks or keep sakes. Just furniture and the odd piece of decoration. It was messy, but not too messy. The small dining room table was clear, but the coffee table held notebooks, pens, and her laptop. A pile of blankets and pillows sat on the single couch in the living room.

As if sensing where his gaze was focused, Emily spoke over her shoulder as she disappeared into a back hall, “You can have a seat on the couch. Just shove the blankets out of the way. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky made his way to the couch, picking up the patchwork quilt. The fabric was soft in his hand, the cotton material aged in just the right way. The individual squares were neat and colorful and held a warmth that Bucky only felt as a child when he visited his grandparents’ house. The intimacy of the quilt overwhelmed him. It was too personal. The situation felt too personal. He shouldn’t be there.

Just as he made to drop the quilt and walk towards the door, Emily reemerged donning a pair of sweats and fuzzy socks.

“Hi,” Bucky said, his mouth dry. Something about seeing her like this, looking so small and vulnerable, felt both wrong and horribly right.

“Hi,” Emily responded, walking towards him and giving a quizzical look at the quilt and then him.

“Oh, I was just admiring it. It’s really beautiful, the quilt I mean.”

Emily pulled it from his hands, hugging it to her chest as she sat down on the couch, “Thanks. It was my grandma’s.”

There was a long pause, a heavy weight filling the space between them.

“Do you wanna’ talk about it?” he asked.

There was a long pause as Emily tried to decide whether she wanted to discuss the events that had occurred that night. Bucky waited with bated breath. Then, with a deep sigh, Emily began to talk.

“We met the summer before the second year of my PhD. Mutual acquaintances. Department barbeque. He seemed nice. We moved in together after a year. And then a year later, a month and half ago to be exact, I found him in our bed with his lab mate, Sharon.” Emily picked at the quilt in her lap and brought her feet up onto the couch, turning towards him. “I kicked him out the same day. Haven’t spoken to him till tonight.”

Bucky was quiet, opting to simply allow her to tuck her feet below his thigh and listen.

“At first, I was upset, but as time’s gone on, I’m realizing that I probably wasn’t upset for the right reason. I felt hurt. But not because I loved him. I should have loved him. I think. We were together for so long. We lived together. But…” She laughed. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this. I don’t usually…Nat says I like to bottle things up and make bad jokes at my own expense. I don’t—I don’t usually…”

Bucky found himself reaching out and placing a hand over hers. He had no idea why she felt comfortable enough to open up to him, but he was touched that she did.

“What a dick. Doesn’t matter if you loved him or not. Or if he loved you or not. You made an agreement and he broke that. It’s no one’s fault but his own. You deserve a lot better than that guy, trust me.” The words he spoke were true. She did deserve a lot better.

Emily turned her hand over, her fingertips brushing against the palm of his hands. The touch sent his pulse racing. A burning fire igniting beneath the surface of his skin everywhere her fingers brushed.

“Thank you, Dr. Barnes,” breathed Emily. Her eyes focused on the movement of her hand and Bucky’s in turn as he moved his hand in sync with hers. Fingertips to fingertips. A ghostly touch.

Bucky chuckled lightly, “Are you ever going to call me Bucky?”

“No,” Emily responded, a small smirk on her face.

“So just Dr. Barnes forever?”

She was quiet, a pensive look on her face as she ceased the dance of their hands and threaded her fingers through his.

“How about James?” she asked.

Bucky’s heart clenched. A hand wrapped around it tightly, squeezing and squeezing. The sound of his name, his given name, slipping past her lips and rolling off the tip of her tongue caused a visceral reaction within him. The front of his jeans tightened, and arousal shuddered through his body.

“Say it again,” he commanded, voice gravely with need.

He heard the sound of Emily’s breath catching in her throat before a soft “James” passed her lips. Hand still gripping hers tightly, he used it to pull her forward and onto his lap. Eyes wide with surprise, her chest heaved, and body trembled as she braced her hands on his shoulders.

“Again.”

“James.”

They leaned towards each other, noses touching and lips a whisper apart. The hot, heavy mix of their breaths shared between them. He should stop. He was no longer crossing a line of propriety in mind. He was crossing a real line. Everything told him to stop. The voice in the back of his head was a distant scream that shouted: ‘She’s your student’, ‘You’re her advisor’, ‘It’s inappropriate’, ‘It’s a liability to your position’, ‘What about Diane?’. But with the feel of her hips in his hands and her hair tickling his face as she leaned over him the voice moved farther and farther into the recesses of him mind.

“Again.”

“Ja—”

Emily was cut off by the shrill ring of a phone in the kitchen. They both jumped, pulling away from each other as if the phone itself caught them in the middle of a nefarious act. Bucky released her waist, his hands falling to his sides as Emily stood and ran to the kitchen.

“Hello? Nat, hey. What’s up?” Emily’s voice lilted from the kitchen, breathy with a small hint of panic. “Yea, I’m fine. I just got home a few minutes ago.”

Bucky stood, removing the quilt that had made its way onto his lap and folded it, before gently placing it back on the couch.

“Oh, Steve told you what happened?”

He sighed, looking around the living room and then back towards the kitchen before making his way towards the front door. Quietly, he exited the apartment, closing the door behind him. The chilly bite of the late night air sank through to his bones as he walked home, trying to make sense of what just happened. By the time he made it to his front door he still didn’t know if he should thank Natasha or advise Steve to break up with her. But one thing was definitely clear, he had crossed a line and there was no going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


	10. Friends and Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sweet, little Steve/Natasha chapter. Super short. Super sweet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just thought I’d give you guys a little Steve/Natasha interaction. I love them so much and I know some people have said how much they love them as well! So hopefully this holds you over till the next chapter is up! 
> 
> And as always, I do not currently have a beta reader so please excuse any larger issues. It’s just little ol’ me!
> 
> Comments and thoughts are always HIGHLY encouraged! So please, please, please feel free to drop a comment and let me know your thoughts on the most recent chapter!

“I said, stop. Moving,” Natasha huffed, attempting to grab ahold of Steve’s wrist once again. However, just as she had it within her grasp, he moved it, too engrossed in his animated ramblings to stay still.

“I’m just saying, you should have seen the way they were looking at each other!” exclaimed Steve, waving his free hand wildly through the air for emphasis. The full movement of his other arm currently inhibited by the pair of handcuffs keeping him secured to the metal headboard. “You know, I’m happy that he finally feels like he’s in a place where he can start moving on from Diane, but I don’t think Emily is the best person to move on with. Not that I don’t think your friend is great. It’s just…I mean she’s his student.”

He had been going on about Bucky and Emily since he’d shown up to her apartment that afternoon. Early on, Natasha reminded him that what the two of them did was none of their concern. They could only be supportive, give their best advice and let them make their own decisions – they were adults. Steve agreed. But the thoughts continued to flow past his lips like word vomit.

“Aha!” she exclaimed, finally capturing his right arm and closing the cool metal around his wrist.

Completely unfazed by the full restraint of his upper body, Steve continued to ramble, “But at the same time, they do seem really great together. She makes him smile. He almost never smiles anymo—”

“Shh, shh, shh,” Natasha cooed, placing a finger to Steve’s lips and moving to straddle his lap. “I think it’s really sweet how much you care about your friend. But for now, new rule: no Bucky in our bed. Understood?”

To emphasize her point, she ran a sharp nail from his temple down to his lower abdomen, leaving a red, raw line behind. The large man shuddered underneath her, letting a small whimper out as he closed his eyes. A wave of power washed over her. She loved seeing him like this. So strong. So muscular. So pretty. So helpless. Entirely under her control.

“I said, understood?” Natasha asked again, settling her weight onto his lap fully, grinding against his budding erection.

“Yes ma’am,” Steve groaned out, breathing harsher now.

“Good boy,” she hummed, leaning forward and placing light kisses along his sharp jaw line. She was just reaching the center of his chest, the light smattering of blond chest hair tickling her lips when the silence was broken.

“I don’t know. What-what do you think?”

With a heavy sigh, Natasha sat up, looking down at the adorably sensitive man beneath her. She couldn’t bring herself to be mad at him. It was endearing how much he cared about their friends. He had a good heart and she couldn’t fault him for that – even if it did interfere with her sex life.

“Okay, if we’re going to talk about this, I have a few questions.” Steve nodded at her conditions. Scooting up his body, she seated herself on his lower stomach and ran a hand through her red curls. “Isn’t Bucky married?”

Steve seemed to grapple with the question for a few moments before answering, “Yes and no.”

“You’re either married or you’re not Stevie. Is _Diane_ in the picture or not?” Natasha raised an eyebrow at the man below her.

Steve sighed, mouth pressed into a thin line, “No, she’s not in the picture. But Buck, he’s…he’s having a hard time coming to terms with it. I’ve tried to get him to talk to me about it, but he’s stubborn. You can’t make him talk about anything he doesn’t want to. Emotions included.”

“Well that explains the wedding ring. It sounds like he’s not allowing himself to reach the sixth step of rebuilding after divorce – acceptance.” Natasha tapped her fingers against the hard muscle of Steve’s chest as she thought.

“I think he’s moving towards acceptance, but he still refuses to talk about what happened in-depth. It’s like he’s trying to cope with it in his own way, which I understand but—”

“You can’t force him to talk about it. People process things in their own way. If what you say is true and he’s starting to come to grips with it, even if it’s in a way you don’t understand, you have to let him. It might not be the healthiest way, but he _is_ making an effort,” said Natasha, her heart going out to the soft, kind man. He cared so much. Clearly, he wanted to fix Bucky’s problems for him, but unfortunately that’s not the way things worked.

“You’re right. You’re right. He’s an adult. I have to let him make his own decisions.”

Natasha nodded, but felt overwhelmed by confliction. As much as she had preached staying out of the situation, now that she knew Bucky wasn’t actually married, she was tempted to tell Emily. It would certainly sooth the woman’s conscience. No matter how many times she tried to tell Emily that she was _not_ to blame, she knew it still bothered her. Emily had some hang ups, most likely due to a childhood she refused to share. But the biggest one seemed to be fidelity. Therefore, as a friend she felt an obligation to ease her guilt. However, it really wasn’t her place to share the information. While Steve hadn’t explicitly stated the information was private, she also knew that it wasn’t common knowledge. It might actually be a good thing that Emily still believed he was married. The last thing her best friend needed was the drama of becoming involved with an emotionally unavailable man. This thought brought her to her second question.

“Do you really think Bucky would seriously pursue Emily?”

“If you’d asked me that question ten years ago, I’d say absolutely not. He’s always been the more cautious one—”

  
“Oh, and you’re the reckless, wild one?” Natasha laughed.

“You’ve got me handcuffed to a bed and I let you do that…thing the other night. I’d say that’s pretty wild,” said Steve, an impressive blush spreading across his whole upper body.

“Mmmmm, if I recall correctly, you thoroughly enjoyed ‘that thing’,” Natasha replied impishly, rubbing her palms over his chest.

“Maybe I did.”

“Just maybe? So, if I suggested doing that thing again tonight, you’d be against it?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” said Steve playfully, lifting his hips to unseat the woman above him.

She fell forward, letting out a small yelp when her lower body slid down his torso till her center landed flush against his mouth. The yelp quickly dissolved into a moan. His tongue snaking out to give a long, warm lick over her lace covered folds; teeth nipping at her clit. Reaching a hand down, Natasha shifted her panties to the side and the conversation of Bucky and Emily to the backburner.

***

Steve stared down at the woman in his arms, breathing deeply as she slept. Moonlight shown through the gap in the curtain, falling perfectly over her face. She was beautiful. Beautiful and strong and supportive and kind. She was all of those things and most surprisingly, she was his. Or at least, he wanted her to be. They hadn’t ‘the talk’ yet. Hell, they’d only just become intimate. It might be too soon, but Steve was ready to commit. More ready than he ever thought he’d be after Peggy. Now, knowing what he had with Nat, what he _felt_ with Nat, his relationship with Peggy felt trivial.

Peggy was his high school sweetheart. He had loved her. She had loved him. But they’d never really fit like he and Nat did. Where Peggy had been rigid and unmoving, Nat was compromising. Where Peggy had been serious, Nat was fun. Peggy had been career driven; Nat was emotion driven – just like him. Natasha appealed more to the reckless side of him, while Peggy always seemed to be reeling it in, trying to tone him down. It wasn’t like he was that crazy; he was a kindergarten teach for crying out loud! Still, there was a part of him that wanted adventure, to push his limits. Natasha wanted all those same things. She made him laugh. She kept him on his toes. She cared. Really cared. When she’d shown up to his school’s bake sale with two large containers of cookies and a nervous smile, his heart had skipped a beat. She was smart. So smart. She always knew the perfect thing to say and she _really_ listened.

“I love you.” He spoke the words softly, letting the sound and feel of them settle in his mouth.

“Do you always tell girls you love them when you think they’re sleeping?” Natasha murmured, a small smile forming on her lips.

Steve’s heart stopped. He was mortified. His whole body went rigid, unsure of what to do or say. He thought for sure she was asleep. The words were true and genuine, but he wasn’t ready for her to hear them. It was _way_ too early to say, ‘I love you’. Yet, here he was – the idiot that said it and now she was going to run screaming.

Moving closer to him, nuzzling her face into his chest, she placed a kiss to his pec, “Calm down big boy. I love you too.”

Letting out the breath he’d been holding, he wrapped his arms tighter around her. Pulling her close, he kissed the top of her head, breathing in the soft scent of her. Joy and content overtook him, carrying him off into a blissful sleep. The distant echo of her words repeating in his mind:

I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment!
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well!
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to give kudos and drop a comment! 
> 
> The story can also be found on my tumblr @fanfictionaries - reblogs, asks, and comments are always appreciated there as well! 
> 
> xoxo FanFictionaries


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